Smoke Screen
by Anotherjaneway
Summary: Johnny Gage gets a rap from a pair of detectives on Christmas Eve and an old, rich bum comes back to help out the gang.


This is a text version of the original still airing imaged, music soundtracked story.

Emergency Theater Live, Episode Twenty Eight

28. Season Four- Episode 28 Short summary-  
Johnny Gage gets a rap from a pair of detectives on Christmas Eve and an old, rich bum comes back to help out the gang.

****WARNING**** The long summary to come is very story spoiling and will take away plot surprises if you read it now before reading the longer story below it.

Decide now if you want to read this episode's detailed summary before doing so.

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Long Summary-  
Johnny Gage stops to aid an injured woman in an alley after hearing gunshots and gets arrested by Dragnet's Detectives Joe Friday and Bill Gannon for murder when the woman dies.  
Friday and Gannon get set for the Christmas holiday by exchanging gifts while casing out a church reporting a stolen statue of Jesus from a nativity scene. They talk to the padre of the church and learn that the shot woman was related to Fireman Marco Lopez. They go to Station 51 to break the bad news. On hearing it, Marco faints and gets treated. Fire Chief Houts get involved in the Dragnet investigation and gets Johnny a fire department lawyer. Houts volunteers Boot the dog to help the detectives locate further clues in the alleyway.  
The detectives befriend Maximillion J. Lorentz in a religious shop, the bum whose money stuffed mattress so intrigued Station 51 a few months ago. The bum tells them about a retarded church boiler room worker and two altar boys who may have been around the night Lopez's cousin was killed. Dixie and Kel try to help Gage unsuccessfully. Roy and Johnny are called to the murder scene to meet up with the detectives and Boot. Johnny notices his old, past apartment in a building nearby. Lorentz, the bum, steps out of the shadows and says he's the one who put up Gage's bail and he tells them about the children's fingerprints found on the gun, professing his real status as a high level, and wealthy P.I. They are distracted when the Christmas tree in Johnny's old apartment catches fire. Marco, with the squad after his hospital discharge, aids them in rescuing the people trapped up there. The church offers refuge for those fleeing the fire and a carbon monoxide leak is discovered in the church basement, the cause of two altar boys' sudden illnesses. Marco calls for paramedics to care for them when they do not awaken. Marco discovers the boiler room man in jeopardy in the basement and effects his rescue. Lorentz, the boiler man's real life brother, mistakenly tries to do the same thing and is overcome by CO fumes. He is rescued, too, by Boot. The altar boys admit to the detectives about playing with the gun they found in the boiler man's cookie jar and about accidently shooting the Lopez girl.  
Later, that Christmas night, the padre and detectives find the statue thief in the form of a little boy pulling a red wagon who only wanted to give Jesus a ride on it to thank him for getting the gift. The dragnet detectives apologize to Station 51 for frightening Marco by giving them a fully decorated Christmas tree. Brackett and Dixie give a Christmas gift to the paramedics of their own when Kel writes and ratifies a new paramedic protocol that prohibits any medic from entering a potentially dangerous scene until the police have fully secured it for safety, first.

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The Story Unfolds...

Season Four, Episode Twenty Eight.  
Smoke Screen Debut Launch: December 1st, 2005.

Special Writer Original Credit Jack Webb, TV actor/writer, NBC (Deceased), for the Christmas special script The Big Little Jesus, 1953, landmark color episode.

*  
From: "Robert Gutheim" .com Date: Thu Dec 1, 2005 12:05 pm Subject: Trouble for Johnny

Johnny's Landrover was full of gas. ::Which isn't always cheap, especially around LA.:: he thought.

Gage was driving into work that morning, hoping to get there as early as he could so he could avoid the wrath of The Phantom of Station 51.

He was almost there when he heard a strange explosive like sound coming from a nearby alley. Gage pulled up nearby and ran into it only to find a badly wounded woman lying on the ground of the trash filled alley.

He ran over to her and began checking her vitals as best he could without a BP cuff. Her respirations were either extremely slow or nonexistent. Then he sighed. ::Not that it would have helped much since I'm not getting a pulse anymore. And there's no way she can stay alive with a head wound this bad.:: he said, seeing gray matter sprayed out on the pavement near her shoulders.

Not too far from the body, Gage concluded that he was dealing with a pistol shooting when he saw a weapon on the ground.  
It was barely visible underneath a piece of box cardboard.

Contrary to regulations, Gage picked up the gun with a pen through the trigger ring , worried about safety. ::It can't hurt anything if I move this a few feet out into the open into plain sight. I don't want it to get kicked by those who're gonna respond to this mess. I still remember all too well what happened after a head knocked Officer Vince got a hold of one of these that was allowed to stay too close on scene..::

He was so engrossed with moving slowly so the safety disengaged gun wouldn't jostle off his pen, fall, and go off, that he didn't notice the sirens of a police car pulling up.

"Put down the gun, sir." a voice called out as a tall, dark haired husky looking man in plain clothes walked up with his weapon drawn. It was pointing at Johnny.

Johnny realized then what he must have looked like and he carefully set the gun and pen down at his feet, muzzle pointed away from the newly arrived policeman and his partner. "I was checking the victim's vitals to see if she was still alive. You see I'm a paramedic with the Los Angeles County Fire Department." Gage explained, getting out his ID. "You are?"

"I m Sergeant Joe Friday, Los Angeles Police Department. This is my partner Bill Gannon. If you don't mind, we'd like to take you downtown to answer a few questions." Sgt. Friday indicated.

"I'm on my way into work actually." Gage informed the detectives.

"We'll explain things to your department chief." Gannon promised him. "Please come with us."

His look told Johnny that he had absolutely no choice in the matter otherwise.

---------------------------------------------------------------

Before too long Gage was being "interviewed." He was surprised that he felt like he had to defend himself.  
"Look, detective, I was simply driving into work when I heard an explosive like sound coming from the alley. I stopped and checked to see what it was, you know, in case anyone was hurt..."  
His attempt at irony was lost on the detectives, even when he tapped his paramedic's I.D. that they had taken out of his wallet that lay on the table in front of him.

They said nothing.

Johnny sighed, doing what they had asked and went on with his statement of account. "First thing I did when I found the woman lying there was to check her over to see if she had any vitals signs. "

The detectives looked at him blankly.

"You know, to see if I could get a pulse, or respirations.  
that kind of thing?"

The clarification finally registered on them and they both nodded in understanding.

"Did you feel so compelled that you had to disturb a crime scene like that past a pulse check?" asked Gannon.

"Yeah, I had to see if there was more I could do for her, guys.  
I wasn't equipped to check her blood pressure without a bp cuff and stethoscope since I don't carry them when off duty. And I didn't like the way that gun was buried under all that trash. I didn't want anybody to step on it. Folks can get themselves killed doing stuff like that."

Gannon and Sergeant Friday just looked at each other with raised eyebrows and that made the young paramedic all the more nervous. ::Why am I sweating? I didn't do anything wrong. Not seriously, anyway.:: he thought to himself.

The silence going on between the two detectives began to bug Johnny and it made him start rambling like he always did when he got uncomfortable about a situation. "You know maybe I should look into carrying them with me. I don't think they would take up all that much space really. Then it would be much more then a just simple first aid kit with me..."

Gannon and Friday said nothing and started whispering to each other in conference.

Gage added more lamely, "...don't you think?"

-------------------------------------------------------------------

Meanwhile, at Station 51, Cap was not in a good mood.

"Any of you seen Gage around? The rest of us are all set for roll call and that twit is nowhere to be seen!" Cap roared to the rest of his men, including Gage's partner Roy DeSoto.

Hank pegged the blonde paramedic with a stare. He didn't have to ask the question again out loud. He didn't have to.

Roy sang out. "Nope. Sorry Cap. I don't know where he is. And yes, by now he IS usually screaming for Chet's blood after getting nailed by one of the Phantom's pranks." Roy explained, pointing to Chet, who was still standing at attention to avoid catching flack from Hank's agitated ire.

Just then the phone rang.

Mike Stoker fell out of line from in front of the Ward and jogged into Cap's office to answer it.  
"L.A. County Station 51. Firefighter Stoker speaking."

##Stoker, it's Gage. Is Cap there?##

"Yes, he is John. And he is not happy with you right about now. I'd look out for him if I were y--" Stoker said as Cap grabbed the phone.

"Give me that, you twit." Cap insisted. "Gage, where are you?!"

##Can't talk too long, Cap. It seems I'm being booked on murder charges of all things.##

"What?!" Cap startled, almost dropping the phone.

Gage explained. ##I'm using up my one phone call to let you know the scoop. Could you call the Fire Department lawyer for me to come down here? I'm with a Detective Gannon and a Sergeant Friday..##

"Gage, sit tight. I'll talk to McConikee and Houts see what I can do to get you that lawyer. Don't do anything further to make it any worse, you twit." Cap said before hanging up.

Johnny grinned despite himself. :: Cap's four letter apellative only comes out when he's emotionally riled up but thoroughly in your camp.:: he thought. ::Now why aren't these detectives in mine?::

-----------------------------------------------------------

Photos: None.

*  
From : Roxy Dee Sent : Wednesday, December 7, 2005 1:22 PM Subject : The Holiday Rigmarole~~

##Ladies and gentlemen.  
The story you're about to read, is true.

Dragnet : The documented drama of an actual crime. For the next thirty minutes, in cooperation with the Los Angeles Police Department, you will travel step by step on the side of the law through an actual case from official police files. From beginning to end, from crime to punishment, Dragnet is the story of your police force in action.

You're a detective sergeant. You're assigned to the homocide and burglary division.

You've already received a call about a shooting in an alley down the block where you found an off duty Los Angeles County firefighter paramedic, caught red handed, holding a revolver by a pocket pen, standing over a recently deceased young hispanic woman. The victim was later discovered to have died of a single gunshot wound to the back of the head. The dead woman has yet to be identified by the county medical examiner's office.

Your soul suspect's name is Johnny Gage who claims to work out of a county firehouse, 51's. So you check it out.  
That station agrees with your man's account of current employment and you confirm the entity to be located nearby in the outlying surburb of Carson City : an affluent community, that is most often perfectly crime free by your recollection. A puzzling background origin for a possible rampant murderer.

To you, your perp is nervous but he has yet to give away something with which you can peg on him that links the apparent suspicious actions that you witnessed on scene earlier, to the killing. So far, Mr. Gage seems to be just a case of a good samaritan who got there too late to do anything to help a damsel in distress.

But that could change. You've always realized that leads usually pop up into existence when you least expect them to.  
You also get a call that an important piece of religious art has been stolen from the oldest church in Los Angeles. There's no lead to its whereabouts either. Your job? Find it and solve your woman in the alley's murder before Christmas time......##

-- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- --

::It was Wednesday, December 24th. It was cold in Los Angeles. We were working the day watch out of the burgulary division. My partner's Bill Gannon. In the front office is Captain Mack. My name's Friday. I'd gone across the street to buy stamps for some Christmas cards I was sending out. It was 9:15 a.m. when I got back to Room 45; Burglary.:: thought Detective Joe Friday. ::I sat out on a table in the squad room and I started to address the cards when Bill Gannon walked in carrying a stack of Christmas boxes.::

"Hi, Joe." greeted Bill Gannon.

"Hi."

"Christmas cards, huh?" chided Bill to Detective Friday. "A little late aren't you?"

"Well, I was gonna send them out Monday, but we had that stakeout." grunted the brown haired Joe Friday, who still musing over Johnny Gage's case file, photos and the notes he had taken while talking to his fire station's captain, out of the corner of his eye even as he carefully wrote down his addresses on his sparkling glittered envelopes.

"Take a look at this." Bill said tossing down a magazine of a newer brand down in front of him.

"What's this? A comic book?" Friday asked, picking it up as if it was going to bite him.

"No, you look through and there's a picture on the next page." Bill demonstrated for him.

"Oh, yah. I've seen those on the newstand." he said, no longer peering through the department store's magazine cover's peek hole.

Bill was still grinning. "They have cloth pasted in them."

"Cloth?"

"In the ads." Bill elaborated with a finger florish. "If you want to buy a suit sample, it's right there." he said, indicating what had captured his eye on the way to work enough to buy the issue.

"Hhmm, you mean you can feel it?" Friday asked.

Bill nodded. "Where you can try it out and feel it. There was one for two hundred dollars."

"A suit?"

"Sure. The cloth comes from Scotland."

Joe tossed down the magazine in disgust. "What's it made out of?  
Solid gold?"

"No. They got a special kind of goat over there. It's real smooth."

"Not a goat, Bill. A sheep."

"Well, a special kind of sheep then, cause it costs two hundred dollars."  
Bill said, still enamoured with the sample he had found.

"You gonna get one?" Joe asked.

"I told Faye. She said wear the sample." Bill sighed ruefully.

Joe Friday's eyes twinkled in a glad I'm not you look. He returned to torturously addressing his Christmas envelopes. And he was good enough not to laugh.

"You ought to get married, Joe." said Bill, going through the packages he had brought with him from the locker room.

"Yeah?"

"Laundry, meals, cards.. All taken care of." Bill surmised, handing to his partner an ornately wrapped blue and gold foil present, that was elongated the length of his palm.

"Might help." Joe agreed, taking the gift, his expression still dead pan.

"Wanna open it now? I always open a couple the day before." Bill smiled.

Joe pegged him with a stare, ignoring his partner's brevity. "Stanley.."

"What's that? Your guess on what I got you for a present?" Bill asked.

"The answer's no. I'm not guessing that this is the Stanley wrench and screwdriver set I asked for. It's too light. Stanley's a fire captain, at 51's down in Carson, the boss who lines up our current murder man consideration,  
Johnny Gage, with daily jobs to do with the county. You remember Hank?  
Cooks the best chowder this side of West Hollywood." Joe admitted.

"Oh! I I remember him now. Didn't we speak to him about a case of a rescued bum whose mattress was found to have contained eighty thousand dollars in cold cash last year?" Gannon asked, snapping in fingers in discovery.

"We did. While he fed us that wonderful soup. I thought that Johnny Gage's nervousness seemed familiar. Just got off the phone with Hank. He sounded just like our medical man does in there. " Joe said, pointing to the interrogation room behind them that had still had its one way glass view of the talking table lit up with Johnny Gage leaning both elbows onto it from his chair while he continued to fidget. "He must have learned the anse trait from Hank Stanley directly." Bill said,  
studying the paramedic carefully.

"Doesn't make him a murderer. A lot of people are a little jumpy under stress."  
Friday said.

"Wouldn't jumpiness like that be a bad thing to have in a fire fighter?" replied Gannon.

"That's what I asked his captain. And do you know what his answer was to me, Bill?"

"No, what?"

"He said he's put up with four years of Gage's twitchy mannerisms and has yet to see a character flaw that he didn't like in the guy. Then he proceeded to tell me just how many people his paramedic has been accredited with as having saved."

"How many?"

"1,017." Joe replied.

"That many?" Gannon gaped.

"Yep. Just got off the phone with the fire department division chief, too. Mr. Houts.  
He came up with the same quote when I asked, when I checked up on Stanley's statement from the phone call before."

Bill sagged onto the desk and set down his Christmas packages. "Then we're back to square one on our alley girl."

Joe nodded.

Gannon wrinkled his forehead. "Tell me again how we're able to hold murder charges over this Gage fellow?"

"He was holding the gun. The woman's blood was on his hands. Because Cap says we gotta go through the motions. And because there were no witnesses to support his alibi. "

"None that we know of." Bill said, staring off into the distance as he leafed through the folder containing their second assignment, to solve the church art theft.

"Say again?"

"We found Mr. Gage at 0700, right?"

"Right."

"Well, doesn't holiday mass let off right about then? Maybe our murder victim was a member of the congregation." Bill said. "This church's in the same alley."

Joe immediately got up from his desk, abandoning his cards. "Then let's kill two birds with one stone. Release Mr. Gage on bail. Say on five hundred dollars worth. He should be able to afford that on a fireman's pay. If he can't cover it I'm sure his stationmates will do it for him."

"Aw, Joe. You're such a softy. You're letting him out so he can be home for Christmas."

Friday looked up without expression. "I'm afraid things won't be so merry yet for him for a while, Bill. Even if he's innocent. He's got a guilty conscience a mile long and for things he didn't even do. Come on. Let's get to the church and see if we can get some of the right answers to our questions that our squirrely Mr. Gage couldn't really answer for us."

"Anything else on the alley murder showing up?" Gannon asked.

"Nothing else."

"I hope it stays quiet. I got more shopping to do." Gannon says, reaching for his detective's jacket.

--------------------------------------------------------------

Photo: A spanish Los Angeles church.

Photo: Gannon and Friday leaning over a desk.

Photo: A ribboned blue foil wrapped Xmas gift.

Photo: Johnny Gage in a T shirt looking depressed.

*************************************************** From: "Cory Anda" andacory... Date: Wed Dec 7, 2005 6:16 pm Subject: The Ties That Bind..

The police man and the detective were on the boulevard, heading back to the crime scene locales of both their currently assigned jobs when another question just begged Bill to ask it. Joe had remained silent while he considered the legal options for the young paramedic that he knew both he and his partner had already found to be liked immensely by all concerned, including themselves.

Gannon broke the stillness as he drove the Fairlane.  
"Anything doing?" he asked, pointing a nose at the quiet police CB radio in the car.

Joe picked up the chin he had resting on his hand.  
"Hadding and Pryor were in on that market holdup."

"Did they come up with anything?"

"Nah, the city's not talking much tonight." Then he held up a package that he had already wrapped for someone in delicate fawn yellow from out of a voluptuous pocket in his trench coat. "Do you see that? Real rice paper pages with persimmon perfume. Leather binding."

Bill raised both his eyebrows over the steering wheel. "Joe, you'll never learn." he said, clucking his lips in sympathy.

"Well, what's the matter?" Friday asked, not changing his position or the present's, which he was holding up for Bill to admire.

"No woman wants a stationery set. Get her something personal."

Joe started up with petulance. "It's got her initials on it..."

Bill smiled. "No, no. You want something more sentimental. Romantic..." he began to soothe gently in advisement.

Joe didn't move, talking fast from the corner of his eye,  
immediately changing the subject. "WhatdidyagetFaye?"

"It's different in my case." pursed Gannon with a stiff lip.

Joe insisted. "Whatdidya ..get ..Faye?" he said more slowly.

Bill sighed. "....A sewing machine..."

Joe's face never changed. "That romantic?" he asked monotone.

Gannon had the grace to look uncomfortable. "Well, it is in a way."

"Why didn't you buy a catcher's mitt?" Friday replied dryly.  
Right then, the car phone went off. Joe picked up the receiver and turned up the volume. "Burglary. Friday. Yes, that's right. You've got the right department.....Ok, Padre. We'll be right out. No you can tell us about it there. Good night." and he hung up the phone. Then he turned to his partner, "It's the Golden Church. About the theft. We're closest."

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::Bill and I checked in with the office and rode over to the church at the corner of Sunset Boulevard and Main...:: narrated Friday's thoughts.

::The Old Mission Plaza Church. Founded in 1781, the year Los Angeles became a pueblo. The outside was typical early spanish design,  
complete with scarlet azaleas lining the walls. They called it the Nuestra La Senora Reina. Her founders had been mostly from Mexico. And their ordained priests still held services there. They had flattened and old stable floor and had added grapevines, trees and flowers. A young priest crossed the courtyard to meet us. He had been sitting on a stone bench reading his morning prayers as padres have done here for one hundred and seventy two years.

We asked for Padre Xavier Rojas who had communicated with us and we were told that he was inside. We entered a side door.....

The church seemed to glow with the hundreds of moulded candles flickering on both sides of the altar and in the shrines throughout the church.

It was empty except for a few people praying. Surrounding the main altar were several old oil paintings in gold frames. The air was heavy with the scent of advent flowers. We found Father Rojas near the sanctuary looking at the nativity scene. He told us about the crib. It was a seventy dollar duplication of the scene at Bethelem. The parishioners had taken up a collection for it thirty one years ago. Every year it was put up December 22nd and taken down after the holy season.

It was beautiful..... Except that one of the shepherds had lost an arm.. The sheep was old and cracked. And the infant J*sus was missing. Father Rojas led us back into the sacristy... :

"I'm sorry to bother you men..." said Father Xavier Rojas.

"It's all right, Father." said Bill.

"...especially now, the holiday season."

Joe gave a small nod for Rojas to go on. "We cashed our checks,  
Father. Will you tell us what happened?"

Bill elaborated more. "Or what you think happened?"

Xavier sighed, folding over his intricate red and white robes.  
"I discovered the statue was missing right after the six o'clock mass."

"Did you say the sixth?" Bill asked Xavier about being its officiary.

"Yes. I started the collections, wrote them into the directory and then last of all, I usually stop by the crib to pray." Father Rojas said.

"Was the statue missing before the mass?" Joe asked him.

"I don't know. But it WAS there last night."

"How late is the church open?" Gannon wanted to know.

"All night."

Joe brindled a bit. "You leave it wide open so any thief can walk in?"

"Particularly thieves, sergeant." smiled Xavier.

"You say it was there last night, Father? How late?" asked the younger detective.

"Ten or eleven o'clock. We had confessions."

"No one saw it after that?"

"One of the altar boys. He says it may have been there. He thinks it was."

"Did he see it?" Friday clarified.

"He's not sure." distressed the padre.

"What's his name?" Bill asked softly, touching the priest on the arm to calm him.

"Hefferman." Xavier led the two detectives over to a plain, heavily scratched desk, and slid over an open ledger for them to view. "Here's the schedule.  
You'll find him in the names for every mass there."

The two detectives made use of the information and leafed through the pictures of the congregation included in the margins. One particular image halted them of a young female singer with a face they immediately recognized. Her name was Maria Angel Lopez. Their young murder victim.

Joe did his best not to sigh in reopened pain.  
"Was there a big crowd at the six o'clock mass this morning, Father?"

"Why do you ask?"

Friday and Gannon both exchanged uncomfortable looks with each other.

"Padre. I'm afraid we have some ...very bad news. Have you known this young woman long?" he said holding up the dog eared photograph of Maria in a christening veil up so the father took it into a gnarled hand.  
"It's important."

"Why, yes. This is Maria Lopez. She's a cousin of one of the firefighters who attends church here twice a month with his mother. She's such a sweet child, and one with G*d. I've known her all her life. I was the one who christened her a few days after she was born." he grinned happily in remembrance.

"She's related to a firefighter?"

"Yes, to Marco Lopez from Station 51, one of the county's I believe,  
located a few miles down the road."

Joe's face fell even more dead pan and he rose from his seat, setting down an offered cup of tea that had grown cold.

Bill took the older man's shoulders. "Father, I think you should sit down."

"Something's happened to Maria? No!" the padre immediately guessed.

"Yes, padre. She was killed by gunfire only this morning around seven,  
right after mass in the alley immediately behind the church."

Xavier's breath caught deep in his throat and he caught himself on the edge of the desk. "And do you know her killer yet?"

"We don't. Not for sure. There was only one man found standing over her body when we got her shots fired call."

"And who was he? If he's not a patron of my church, he shall surely pay with eternal d*mn*tion."

"His name is John Gage, and he's also a firefighter. And we've learned that he's a paramedic, too,..." Bill said softly, reluctant to add the rest. Finally, he said it. "...from Station 51."

Xavier's face blanched pure white and the two detectives thought that they would have to catch him falling into a faint. But that never happened.  
"Oh, my goodness. Has someone let Marco know about Maria's murder yet?  
This is simply ... terrible.. I--"

"Here, padre." said Friday, giving over the tea that would have been his.  
"Drink this. It'll help."

Bill went on. "We didn't know about the connection between Johnny Gage and Marco Lopez until now. Rest assured that we'll get to the bottom of this,  
Father. We don't think that Gage is Maria's murderer. His basic character doesn't fit the profile."

"I hope not. Pitting friend against friend can scarcely be imagined, detective." he took in a big breath. "Do you want me to tell Mr. Lopez about his cousin? He is working today at the station."

"We'll do it. Mr. Gage's probably already met bail and may be headed there.  
We'll share the information with the two of them in the presence of their superiors for moral support." Gannon said, rising. "Thank you, Father."  
said Friday, rising from his chair.

"And about the statue, we'll solve that mystery, too." Bill promised.

"Was there a large crowd of people here after the six o'clock mass?"  
Friday questioned Rojas before they lost him in fresh grief.

"Not many. Uh,...People are usually going to work." said the tearful padre.

"Did you notice anyone strange hanging about Maria in particular?"

"Not especially. I came back here,.. I took off the vestments.  
I suppose it was ten, fifteen minutes before I went back out into the church. She had stopped singing by then."

"Was it empty?" Bill plugged, looking desperate for any new suspect.

"No, people were coming in for the seven o'clock." Xavier sighed.  
"I'm so ashamed that I didn't even notice that Maria had gone missing,  
too."

"Can you check with the other priests, Father?"

"I can."

"Please do. It's very important that we find the killer or else this young paramedic may pay the unfortunate price."

"I shall, believe me. I will most diligently."

"Just for a check on the pawn shops, on our second task, how much is the infant statue worth?" Bill asked Father Rojas.

"In money?" Xavier frowned, genuinely surprised by the odd question.  
He was still stunned by the news of the murder of Maria, the most devout celebre' of his congregation by far.

Friday smiled then. "That's the point in pawn shops, Father."

The older gray haired man sighed and wiped away an escaping tear.  
"Only a few dollars. We could get a new one, but it wouldn't be the same.  
We've had children in the parish: they've grown up and married.  
It's the only J*sus they know."

"We understand." said Friday.

"....And we've had children who died....Like her.." the Padre choked up as he hugged Maria's choir picture. " It was the only J*sus they knew....So ...*sob* many of the people who come here are simple people. They wouldn't understand, sergeant. It would be like changing the evening star. "

"We'll do our best, Father." promised Bill Gannon.

"That's why it would mean so much to the Lopezes, and to the church, to have it back for the first mass on Christmas..." Rojas said.

"That's not very long, Father. Less than twenty four hours." Bill frowned.

Friday silenced his partner with a small shake of his head. "If anything turns up, you know where to get in touch with us."

"Yes." Rojas sighed. "It's sad, isn't it?"

"How's that?" asked Bill.

"In so short a time, men learn to steal and kill."

Friday allowed the grieving man of the cloth a look of hope.  
"Yes, but consider us, Father."

"Us?"

"If some of them didn't, you and I would be out of work. Now let's try to save a paramedic, together, so he won't find himself out of his." Joe said with conviction.

Next to him, Bill Gannon's eyes shone with the same passionate light.

-----------------------------------------------------------------

Photos: None.

*  
From: "Patti or Jeff or Cassidy" Date: Thu, 8 Dec 2005 13:07:07 -0800 (PST) Subject: [EmergencyTheaterLive] Brown Against Blue

Captain Stanley was more than grateful that the station hadn't been called out of the house yet while all personnel he had requested from L.A. Headquarters, came.

Houts was hanging about in the office and the lawyer that Gage wanted was still gathering background information from the others on shift. :: Man, ...Marco, Stoker, Kelly and Roy, are taking this bombshell event rather well. Wish I could say the same for myself.:: thought Cap.

For the third time, he cleared his throat and leaned on the map outside his own office door, waiting for it to reopen.

The side door buzzer rang, making him jump.

"I got it!" called Chet and he skidded on the garage floor,  
colliding with Boot, who was just as eager to get there, to see if Johnny had arrived yet from the police station.

His face fell when he saw that it was two men, holding up detectives badges. Stanley pulled up on his belt, fighting a lump in his throat that had formed ever since he had received the phone call from Johnny about the murder wrap. He dropped all pretense of formality. "What's new, fellas? Can I interest you in some coffee? We've a fresh pot in the kitchen on the stove."  
he tried to grin.

Joe Friday surprised him by looking around the vehicle bay before speaking. "Is Fireman Marco Lopez available, captain?  
It's rather important that we speak to him immediately."

"About what may I ask?" Hank said, sweeping nervous fingers through his hair.

Right then, a happy disturbance interrupted the three of them when the gang celebrated Gage's appearance through the station's kitchen door.

Bill stopped smiling. "Uh, I think it would be better if we all talked together about this captain. It'll be best for all concerned if we do. After all, fire crews harbor no secrets from each other, or so I was led to believe by Chief Houts."

"That fact is definitely true, detective. Uh,... This way..." he said,  
showing the two investigators to the kitchen table.

The animated babble surrounding Johnny that was filled with worry, encouragement and energetic advice dropped into silence instantly when Gannon and Friday took the chairs Cap offered them.

Hank's face fell. "Fellas, have a seat. These two gentlemen have something to say that can't wait until later. Marco, this is meant for your ears, too, so don't go wandering off."

Uncomfortable and clearly uncertain, the gang did as they were told,  
filing in around the kitchen table. Stoker immediately handed out coffee mugs to everyone, but forgot to pour anything.

No one noticed the oversight.

Chet Kelly got up quickly, "I'll......go get the Chief and Johnny's lawyer.  
Is that ok if I do that, pal?" he said looking at Gage.

Gage was still deciding how to place his arms in front of him through his agitated state of worry. "Yeah. By all means! Uh,.. if that's all right by you guys....heh." he said without humor to the two policemen.

They nodded. "That might be a good course of action. We don't want to interfere with anyone's rights under the law." replied Bill Gannon.

When Chief Houts and a young, fresh faced lawyer with a side part sat down, the nervousness in the kitchen grew palpably. Especially when Houts, a department icon, refused a fill into his coffee cup.

Hank cleared his throat. "Detectives, Bill Gannon and Joe Friday, everybody. I've been led to believe that they're working on the case against Gage here." he said carefully, taking his own chair awkwardly.

"Not against Gage. We're simply a neutral investigative party. It'll be up to a courthouse judge to decide Johnny's eventual guilt or innocence. We're merely here to seek out some details to answers that haven't been made clear yet." He looked to the fire department lawyer who had taken a seat near his nervous client. "May we proceed, sir?"Joe asked the lawyer.

He got a nod from him. "Go ahead. For your records, my name's Trenton Cogley of the Los Angeles County Fire Department. I'll be representing Mr. Gage through any formal proceedings until there's a resolution found in this case."

Joe's gaze cast around the room and he took in everybody's faces one by one in careful measure. Then his eyes stopped on Lopez, the only man of hispanic descent, in the room. "Mr. Lopez, I presume. Please confirm for my partner and I that your first name is Marco."

"Uh,.. yes, uh, it is. And I vouch for Johnny Gage here completely. He wouldn't harm a fly let alone some woman in a city alley." Marco insisted, licking his lips.

"She was no stranger, I'm afraid. Especially not to you, Mr. Lopez." Joe said bluntly.

Unpleasant nausea that couldn't be explained caught Marco fully as he tried to work his brain around Friday's last sentence."Wh-?" he gasped.

Johnny Gage immediately became vocal when the implication came to him first about the dead woman and Marco."Now wait just a dog-goned minute here! That's no way to drop a--"

Bill Gannon broke in. "I'm sorry, Mr. Lopez. But the woman your friend couldn't help this morning has just been positively identified as your first cousin, Maria Angel."

Lopez went white as a sheet and choked. He got one step out of his chair before his eyes rolled up into his head into a dead faint. He went limp and noodled, straight down.

Johnny and Roy's chairs slammed backwards into the couch as they both scrambled to catch him before his head cracked against the floor.

The kitchen erupted into pandemonium as Captain Stanley, the lawyer and the other firemen started arguing angrily with Gannon for his tactless way of delivering bad news.

Only Chief Houts remained measured. He got DeSoto's attention, who was crouched with his partner over Marco as they loosened his collar so he could breathe without restriction. "Do you need your medical gear and a Mayfair's response?"

Gage, still numb but functional, nodded. "Yeah. ...uh, yeah, chief. I mean, sir.  
Stoker! Go grab it all." Then a bizarre thought struck him. "Chief, am I able to work still?" he asked Houts.

"Of course. Until I see real evidence that proves otherwise. Keep helping him."

Captain Stanley was still glaring at the two city detectives as he got on the pay phone. "L.A., Station 51 is no longer available. Still alarm at our location. Respond one ambulance and--"

Houts held up his hand as he stood to help the others move the kitchen table and Boot out of Roy and Johnny's working space over Marco. "Hank, don't worry about getting Lopez's fill in. I'll do it. I already know Gil Robertson's signed up for replacement duty here. He thought he had to do it for Gage."

Stanley looked up sharply at Hout's "extra man" plan already in place, and all he could do was nod stupidly. "....that's all for now, L.A." Hank said into the receiver. "Yes. Thanks. My timeout for the log book is 14:55. Got it." and he hung up the line. Then he turned his back purposely on Gannon and Friday and looked to Roy, who was fitting an oxygen mask over Marco's pallid face while Mike got his shirt open. "Is he ok?"

"As well as he can be, given the circumstances.." Roy said angrily. He got back to taking Lopez's blood pressure. He frowned when he found how low it had become. "Johnny, we might need an I.V." he said, reaching out to his shaky partner's sleeve. "Johnny,...did you hear me?"

"...uh,...right, I'll make the call to Rampart. Stoker, keep an eye on that EKG. His system's had quite a shock. Mine, too, for that matter." he said, rubbing his face fiercely to drag his thoughts together. "That's right, cover him up,  
Chet. He's going to need a blanket. Boot! Get outta here! You're getting in our way!"

Chet, nearby, was seething. He jerked a thumb over his shoulder in irritation at Gannon and Friday. "Cap, do we need these two hanging around any more? I think they've done enough damage to the station for one day."

Stanley held up his hands in sarcasm. "Not my place to say, Chet, now is it?  
Chief?"

"They stay. Cogley still has to get in an official conference with them to get all the details for the formal court proceedings. Do you need anything special for that task Trent?" Houts asked Trenton.

"No. That is, if Mr. Lopez here is nothing more than just a relative of the deceased."

Joe Friday replied. "That's all he is."

"Ok, uh, Then I'll need nothing else. Let's get to work, shall we?" Cogley said with mild sarcasm, trying to ignore the sharp emotions in the room as the cluster of firemen tried to restore Marco to some semblance of normalcy with shouts and shoulder shaking. But Lopez did not awaken.

Cap knelt by Roy's shoulder. "Is this because he's still hungry from sleeping overnight on an empty stomach with all this bad news? We did get back from that multiple MVA awfully late. I know for a fact that he didn't eat before crashing then."

"Probably. Rampart'll order a check for glucose in the ER after we give them some vitals." DeSoto said. "That's pretty standard."

"Ok. Let me know if you need anything. I'm going to go pop open the front doors for the mobile rig when it comes." and Stanley jogged out of the kitchen.

Johnny finished getting Marco turned onto his left side so an airway wouldn't be needed over his tongue. He handled his crewmate gently, going overboard with being the caretaker to protest the detective's manhandling of Marco's emotions.  
Then he got on the biophone Chet had deposited at his feet.  
"Rampart, this is Squad 51. How do you read?"

Gannon and Friday were oblivious to the proceedings, deep as they were in deliberating with Cogley about the strength of the murder rap against Johnny. Trenton had the good manners to keep concerned for Gage's coworker even as he got details from the detectives' notes down onto his own ledger.

##Go, ahead, 51. We read you loud and clear.## replied Dr. Early.

Johnny opened his mouth, but nothing came out.

Roy took the phone from Johnny when he choked for being so furiously upset at how Marco had been treated by the Dragnet pair. He spoke instead. "Rampart. One of our own. A thirty one year old male. Down from a syncopal episode due to psychogenic shock. Patient did not strike his head when he passed out. Vital signs are : B/P is eighty two by palpation with his legs elevated. Pulse's 110 and respirations are twenty and shallow. He's on 15 L's of O2. EKG is showing only slight sinus tachycardia with normal T wave elevations but he's still proving as unresponsive to verbal commands. Request permission to start an I.V., Rampart."

##Go ahead, 51. An I.V. of Lactated Ringers at a rate of 120 ml/hr. Run in an initial 250 ml bolus, or more, until his blood pressure returns to normal. Administer a course of 100 mg Thiamine IM as a precaution. I heard your station had some fairly heavy duty during your last twenty four hour shift. Give him glucagon 1 mg IM if his LOC doesn't change appreciably within five minutes. Push D50, 51, at 50cc IV if you still don't see improvement en route after an appropriate interval following those first two treatments. Get a full medical history and any medications he might be currently taking. Resend a set of vitals if they continue to downcurve. Keep him warm and transport as soon as possible. ##

"10-4, Rampart. I.V. LR at 120 with 250 bolused to low normal of 90 systolic.  
100 of Thiamine now. 1 mg Gluc IM in five if no change. D50 push at 50 if still unresponsive en route. Our ETA is...."

Captain Stanley heard the sound of an approaching siren. "....less than five minutes."  
he said tersely.

"...five minutes." Roy finished neatly.

##We'll see you then, 51. Rampart out.## replied Joe Early.

Roy and the others quickly directed the arriving ambulance attendants into getting Marco situated on the wheeled gurney once he was I.V. line tape secured and fluid, mineral and sugar treated fully.

Johnny Gage couldn't wait for the sanctuary of a quiet Mayfair cabin in which to try and pull together his tattered thoughts. If events had seemed surrealistic before, they were feeling absolutely out of any shred of his control now.

Marco coughed then under the mask and Johnny used every breath sighing from Lopez as a steadying support for his nerves.

---------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Photo: Mad Cap and Gage leaning on the frig.

Photo: Marco looking lost with questioning Chet.

Photo: A fresh looking man in the engine bay with Chet and Cap.

Photo: An angry Roy in the kitchen.

Photo: Joe Friday and Bill Gannon with case files, talking.

Photo: Boot helping out with medical gear.

Photo: Mike Stoker, looking down in concern at the station.

Photo: Johnny Gage reacting to a fallen Marco.

*  
From: "Roxy Dee" Date: Wed Dec 14, 2005 7:49 pm Subject: The Truest Color Of Devotion~~

Dr. Joe Early sighed as he and Roy and Johnny left the treatment room that held the sleeping Marco Lopez. "And you say that Marco fainted right after hearing some news? That doesn't sound like the kind of thing that would usually bother him normally. He's been a firefighter too long to be that vulnerable. But his tests, past the basement level serum glucose reading, are all coming back as negative which forces me to believe his symptoms were as you say,  
all psychosomatic. But surely, he must have some pretty thick skin working for him by now. What did he get upset about if I may ask?"

Roy and Johnny shared a conspiratory gaze and clammed up. "Uh, doc.  
We're on sensitive ground here and I guess by the chief's orders, such as they are. He's effectively gagged us. We can't talk about it. At least, not yet." said Johnny, raising his eyebrows matter of factly.  
He bounced on his toes and fidgetted with the buckle on the front of the oxygen demand valve case he was still holding.

"But I promise, we will soon, hopefully." Roy reiterated. "Sorry, doc.  
But the matter is rapidly stepping into Johnny's personal territory and into the professional range of another higher agency in authority."

"I understand perfectly. I realize that even a doctor can fall under a need to know only basis. I hit walls like that with juvenile court, priests and nursing home administrators all the time and quite frankly, I'm almost getting used to it." Joe grinned. "You told me all that was necessary in order for me to effectively treat Marco and that pretty much nails the cap on what a doctor SHOULD do, boys. So don't worry about it."

"So is he gonna recover in time to start tomorrow's shift? If he can't, he's sure gonna rail about missing getting in some good holiday overtime." Gage grinned wanly. "He's gonna wanna work after tonight. Trust us that Roy and I know this as a concrete fact, doc."

Joe met both paramedics with an even stare. "Physically, I'd say yes. But our chaplain, who was in when you two stepped out of the room briefly for the lab tech's draws, says no for the emotional side of things, for at least a couple of days." Joe was unhappy with that kind of prognosis from a man who was a healer of a kind, like himself, and it showed on his face.

Johnny opened his mouth, about to say something to his silver haired mentor, but immediately shut it again.  
Joe didn't press him one second further, at least, not intentionally.  
"Let me know if there's anything I can do to help all of you when you can, ok? It's the least I can do past the non-charges I'm going to file for him for that precautionary ambulance ride, your treatments, and the use of that exam room." he said jerking his thumb over his white coated shoulder.

Both paramedics brightened from their listless distant look enough to thank Dr. Early with a heartfelt sincerity. "Thank you, doc, on Marco's behalf. I'm sure if he wasn't medicated right now, that he'd think the same thing I was thinking, uh,..I mean, about thanking ya and all." said Gage.

Joe Early nodded, accepting the vague explanation gracefully and they could see that he was chalking up the whole conversation as one from a couple of men truly caught between a rock and a hard place.  
"If I don't see you again before midnight, Merry Christmas, fellas."

"Merry Christmas, doc." said Roy, waving as the mild mannered M.D. returned back to his normal rounds. "Thanks for everything."

"From me, too." said Johnny, trying to smile as he watched Joe's back retreat cheerfully away from them.

------------------------------

"I suppose we'd better get back. Your lawyer's bound to get fairly expensive if we keep him waiting too long for us to return here."  
Roy jibbed, attempting a joke. He started to head for the squad with the ekg monitor after taking a sip of water from the fountain in the wall.

Johnny leaned on the door of the treatment room, pressing his nose against it to fight back tears that had surprised him by resurfacing. He ignored Roy's comment completely as he busied himself by watching Marco's breathing rate and its count through the glass window. A floating floor nurse was still in the emergency room with him. She was waiting for his pressure to stay level enough to discontinue Lopez's flowing I.V. It was almost empty. ::That's kind of like how I'm feeling right now.:: Gage thought. Suddenly, he started actively crying...quietly to himself, without making a sound.

Being closely attuned, Roy noticed Gage's absence at his side immediately, and made his way back over to him through the heavy Christmas Eve waiting room crunch. It was then, that Roy noticed Johnny was shaking in a delayed reaction.

Gage's mind was a whirlwind. ::Why didn't I know the dead woman was part of Marco's family? I'm usually pretty good about noticing odd coincidences like that. Why didn't I look for a wallet for a form of I.D. like I've done on calls thousands of times before?::

He felt Roy rest a hand on his shoulder softly and his head shot up with a jolt, both reddened eyes glistening in the lights.

DeSoto dropped a balled handkerchief down his front subtly while he pretended to fiddle with his online HT with the other one, waving cheerfully at passing nurses who were noticing Johnny's droop against the door to show them that he was fully aware of the situation and had it in hand enough without needing them. He kept his back to his partner, so he could save some face and have some privacy while he gave into some healthy venting.  
"You had a gun drawn on you for Pete's sake." Roy replied as if he were clairvoyant. "I honestly can tell ya my shorts wouldn't've been as clean as yours if I turned around to find a police detective with an oozy aimed at my head. Quit blaming yourself. You can't know everything. Let's go.  
You can roll down the squad window and let the sun dry off your face before we get back to the station. Take comfort in the fact that nobody'll see you if you start blubbering again in the squad, except me."

"I should say something to him." he said, throwing a chin up at Marco,  
still looking at Lopez through the window's clear pane.

"Do you think now's the best time to offer Marco platitudes? Come on, Johnny. Get real. You know how crappy folks feel for the rest of the day after suffering a faint. Especially one as deep as his. You can tell him anything you want once he's been discharged. Now, come on." And Roy tugged on his arm. "Let's get this detective/lawyer interview thing over with. Houts hasn't got all day available to babysit us like he's been doing already."

Johnny used the cloth and chucked it into a red plastic lined bio-bin nearby. "No, let's go grab a cup of coffee first. I gotta get something to settle my stomach that's not liquid drug box anti-acid.  
I must have chugged a whole bottle of it on the way in."

"Ok, but only for a few minutes. And milk'll be better for you."

Johnny started to gape but Roy interrupted him.

"Before you open that yap of yours in pointless protest, I'm buying. So get moving." Roy told him.

----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Dr. Brackett was working on his chart stack at Dixie's center desk when a pair of police officers approached him. Kel looked up. "Can I help you, gentlemen?"

"Yes, we're looking for a paramedic who's recently brought in one of his coworkers from his own fire station. A guy by the name of Johnny..."

"Gage? Yes, I know him. I think I saw him and his partner, Roy DeSoto,  
walking that way towards the cafeteria. They're here for what?"  
The two officers didn't like that he had missed their prior information. They started to head away, when Kel grabbed the officer's arm. "Uh, if I may, what's all this about officer? Is my man in some kind of trouble?"

"Well, I don't know if I can tell you our business, doctor.."

"Dr. Brackett. Dr. Kel Brackett, head of emergency."

The Los Angeles street cop still looked un-reassured.

Brackett reiterated his position clearly.  
"Technically, I really am the boss of every paramedic who delivers patients to Rampart Hospital. I trained up most of them myself. So anything that effects any of them legally, effects me, in a way."

"Ok, doctor. Guess we can tell you. Your man Gage's free on bail over murder charges for killing the cousin of one of his fellow firefighters, a Marco Lopez from Station 51. Apparently, this Lopez collapsed a half hour ago and was treated by Gage's Squad 51. We want to ask Lopez a few questions about the victim and about what might have caused his own illness. You see, we have reason to be suspicious of Johnny's off duty whereabouts over the last day."

Kel reeled and barely covered the shock which bloomed in his chest at the bland statement. "Who's overseeing this investigation officially?  
I've a right to know if this effects one of my out-of-hospital employees."

"Detectives Bill Gannon and Joe Friday from the downtown precinct,  
Los Angeles."

"Johnny? Trumped up on homicide charges? You're sure barking up the wrong tree! Gage's never harmed anyone his whole life."

The taller officer leaned in on the desk. "Did you know that before Johnny Roderick Gage became a rescue man with the county, he served three years probation for offenses he committed as a teenager?"

Brackett's face twitched. "No, I didn't."

The two officers started smiling at the doctor's chagrin.

Kel erupted. "For what? Double parking or drinking and driving underage?"

"For disorderly conduct, doctor. Which is well known to be a precursor for a later tendency ...towards violence."

Brackett became speechless.

"Excuse us, doctor, we've a couple of paramedics to catch."  
and they walked away, leaving a very rattled Dr. Brackett holding the worst possible of ill tidings.

Dixie happened to notice him as she passed by and immediately,  
she went to his side. "Kel? Are you ok?"

"No. Not by a long shot. I've found out something incredible recently about Johnny. And it involves his fellow crew member, Marco Lopez." Dr. Brackett proceeded to tell his nurse about the whole situation as quickly as he could. "Apparently, Johnny just treated him."

"Marco? He's here?"

The thought of working an easy ER night shift on Christmas Eve instantly became the most remote one for both doctor and nurse soon after that.

"Yes. And the only possible one who could know about that is.." Kel said.

"....Joe. Come on, I think I know where he is." Dixie finished for him.

They practically ran for Joe Early's office to speak with him.

-  
Hank Stanley was still steamed. He had already sent Chet Kelly out to the yard to hang hose to work out some of the hostility that had shown in his voice when he directed his humorless comment about the detectives.

And he had received word that Marco Lopez was fine, well, and resting comfortably in one of Rampart's short stay emergency treatment rooms.

His office door had barely closed behind himself, Chief Houts, Bill Gannon and Joe Friday, when he went off. "Is it common practice to devastate relatives about a victim's shotgun murder so thoughtlessly?! My g*d, didn't you two see the kind of effect your just the facts mentality had on him?! It was as if you had hauled Marco Lopez against a wall and shot him with a gun yourself!"

"At ease, captain..!" Houts snapped.

Hank immediately went rigid at attention. "Sorry, sir, I thought I could speak freely in my office because we're well away from the rest of my crew's ability to hear."

"Not when you're yelling that loudly, you're not. Sound always carries through the pipes in stations this new." he said jerking his finger up at the ceiling where a few white painted ones threaded through above the flourescent light. "Captain, I appreciate you wanting to protect your firefighters being incriminated and investigated. It's only natural, given your station. And I don't mean that as a pun, Hank."

Stanley had to smile. Wearily he sat down in his chair without asking,  
and Houts didn't harp on him for doing it. "Sorry, Gannon, Mr. Friday,  
it's been a stressful day. Every Christmas Eve gets this way. I just wish you would've found a gentler way to tell my man about the death of his cousin. Marco's very attuned to his family. It was bound to have effected him the way that it did."

"How else are we going to catch Maria Angel Lopez's killer? Every minute we delay is one minute more for the trail to get cold. We wanted to speak with Marco as well as the rest of your men about what happened this morning with Gage on his way to work. Can we get to it please?"

"Ok, but talk with them all in a group or they won't be talking I'll have you know." Hank warned.

"Firefighters are fiercely protective of each other." Houts added.

"You don't have to tell us that. We see that in you." said Friday deadpan.

"Oh. Yes. Well,.." Cap said sheepishly. "sorry I blew up just now. I just thought you did a little too much straight sided talking over the kitchen coffee, that's all."

"And how are we going to solve this crime if we don't talk?" Gannon asked quite frankly and dotted with a little sarcasm. Like the firemen,  
he was very hungry.

"You don't learn ANYthing by talking. You learn by listening." Cap said with a touch of heat.

Behind him, standing quietly under the clock, Chief Houts, nodded slowly in agreement. He was deeply pleased for Hank's bit of cool wisdom.

That got Gannon and Friday's attention. "Just how do you propose we do that?"

Hank's eyes sparkled with newfound energy. "Let's discuss it over a pot of chili, shall we? My station never gets called away on a run while we're eating five alarm chili."

Houts added more, trusting his favorite captain and trusting Hank's absolute faith in his men. "I promise you that we'll make such head way into your investigation, in just an hour, that your ties'll start spinning."

Finally, the two detectives looked up from the watches they wore.  
"You have one hour to prove your point of view. After that, we do things ...our way."

"Deal." said Hank, leaning over his desk. He thumped his fist onto its surface so hard, that Chief Houts' picture retilted on its nail above the file cabinet. He immediately flushed, muttering apologies.

Grinning at Cap's embarrassment, the Chief put it to rights with a few fingers and straightened his hat. "Let's hit the chow line.  
Hank, go invite that young lawyer to dine with us. No doubt he's gonna ask to ride along with Gage and DeSoto on squad runs so he can hurry things along a little faster before tomorrow's holiday break."

"I'll do that right now." said Stanley, opening the door for his very official guests.

The four of them were struck speechless when they found Boot,  
the station dog, sitting square in the absent squad's parking space, waiting patiently in the sea foggy afternoon chill for Johnny and Roy's eventual return. His gaze never left the cars on the boulevard as he searched for the two paramedics' truck.

Gannon was impressed. "Does he always do this?"

"Always. And only for those he cares deeply about." winked Hank.  
"He dogs anyone in trouble and stays with them until he finds that they're finally out of it."

Houts grinned, shivering in the seasonable cold seeping in from the open garage doors. "Boot here has been creditted with saving fifty five people by leading fire department vehicles right to them on rescue calls."

"Really.." said Friday. "Was he trained to the skill?"

"No. He does it on his own. You're looking at a genuine, one hundred percent unadulterated, wandering alley mutt, gentlemen. But he always comes through for us in the end. And he is never wrong about those he thinks are in trouble."

"Impossible! You say he's here for Gage?" asked Gannon.

"Most likely. You know how a dog's instincts can sometimes get." Hank said.

"That I do. Mind if we borrow him when we take Gage on a re-visit to the crime scene when he gets back?" asked Joe Friday.

"That my friend, is up to Boot. He comes and he goes as he pleases around here." Houts told the detective.

Photos: None.

*  
Date: Fri, 16 Dec 2005 14:14:35 -0800 (PST) From: "Jeff Seltun" Subject: Just the Simple Facts...

::17:15 pm. Johnny Gage and Roy DeSoto had reported themselves as available according to the fire department dispatcher a half an hour ago. But still, they hadn't returned from the hospital after caring for Mr. Lopez. My partner had a theory about that. They must have stopped at a burger joint on the way back to the station. One of the regular fireman,  
a Chet Kelly, seemed to agree with this assessment. So Bill and I checked out the two altar boys from the day's masses while we waited for a phone call from the fire captain as soon as DeSoto and Gage were confirmed as return arrived back in their base of operations.

The first one, James Cormeen, said that he knew nothing about the missing statue. The second one, Joseph Hefferman, was not at home. His pharmacist father said that he had a part time job but he'd have him get in touch with us right after dinner.

By 18:00 pm, we'd run out of book procedure. We had a killer to find. Our only clue; that the murdered victim had been to church.

18:07 pm.. We checked the phonebooks for the names of religious stores in the area. Two of them were closed. We tried the third.  
When we got there, the only person in the store was an elderly man sitting by a table. In front of him was a large beautifully carved chess set. ::

----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Joe Friday drew out his wallet when the white whiskered man finally looked up from the move he had been contemplating.  
"We're police officers. My name's Friday, this is my partner,  
Bill Gannon."

"Great to see ya." said the man, not looking up from a letter that he was studying intently past a cursory glance to take in the fact that the men speaking to him were actually who they said they were.  
"I'll be with ya in a minute. You caught me in the middle of my big chess match."

Bill smiled, looking at the empty chair across from the man.  
"Where's your partner?"

"At work in a church boiler room. We've been playing for years." said the old timer.

"Same match?" asked Joe.

"No. Just two or three months on this one. What I meant was that we've been playing different matches for years.." he said proudly.

"I see." said Friday.

"You know, we do it through the mail, since he's autistic and can't leave the church sacristy and Father Xavier Rojas's direct care officially. He sends me a move and I send him one."

"Must keep you on your toes." Bill said rubbing his chin thoughtfully.

"Except during the holidays when the mail gets all fiddled up. That's no good."

"Guess not." said Bill.

"Slows things down. That's no good. I like to catch him off guard."

"What's his name?" asked Joe.

"Leonard Baptista."

"Really. Is that his real last name? Kind of ironic since he's a ward of Rojas's church down the street." Gannon probed.

"Yes. That's his, and that's the honest to G*d's truth." smiled the white whiskered man, crossing himself.

Bill looked up at the storefront window, squinting for a moment.  
"Are you Maximillion J. Lorentz?" he guessed suddenly, returning a studying gaze at their store proprietor.

"How'd you know? We've never met." declared Maximillion with surprise.

Joe grinned. "Your name's on the window up front."

"Mr. Lorentz, we've checked with the other two religious stores in this neighborhood. They're closed."

"This is the best one anyway. Fifty percent European items." said Lorentz proudly.

Joe smiled. "We're checking the stores around the Mission Church."

"For what?" asked their chess player.

"A statue of the child Jesus." replied Bill. "Do you have one we could look at?"

"Sure.." said Max and he stepped to a cobwebbed but shiny brass display case with no glass and held out the nearest one he had for sale. It barely fit into the palm of his hand.

Joe piped up. "No, sir. A larger one."

Max blinked. "You don't want a large one. Unless it's for a church. That's where you want a larger one." he declared, thinking the two detectives were actually going to buy.

Bill smoothed some feathers. "Could we see it, please?" he asked gently.

Max went away and came back with one about a meter long. Too big to be one that would fit in the Mission Church's manager. "It's not my due to butt in, but unless you live in a big place, this one'll make your living room all the killer. "

Joe and Bill exchanged ironic looks at the use of that word. "Yes, sir."  
said Joe. "Do most of the people who go to Mission Church trade here?"

"A good many of them. Especially kids."

Friday was puzzled. "Why kids?"

"They're more religious." said a surprised Max at the detective's daftness.  
"Check on it yourself. See if kids aren't more religious than you."

"That'd be so." agreed Joe.

"That's what's wrong with the world. Oh, I don't mean you're wrong with it. Everybody!" said Max spraying some spittle in his fervor.

Bill nodded. "Yes, sir. But I wonder if we could stick to the point, Mr.  
Lorentz."

"Sure. A lot of people from the Mission Church come in here." said Max,  
cooling down and cleaning his face with an old, but tidy handkerchief.

Joe dug into the lead. "Do people ever come in here to sell BACK a religious article?"

Maximillion rubbed his scraggily beard in puzzlement. "You mean like a prayer book or rosaries?"

"Yes, sir." Friday nodded.

"Second hand you mean?" asked Max.

"Yes, sir." Bill confirmed.

Max shook his partially bald and graying head. "Not since I've ever been around. That'd be silly."

"Why?" asked Gannon.

"People don't have religious articles so they can get rid of them.  
They have them so they can HAVE them." reasoned the old man sensibly.

Bill pressed his point. "But if a man had a statue and wanted to sell it.  
would he come to a place like this?"

"Sure. But he wouldn't want to sell it." Max said, not changing his beliefs one bit.

Joe added more. "He would if it were stolen."

Max vehemently shook his longish, hobo looking hair underneath his floppy hat.  
"No sir!" he said, the first touches of anger coloring his voice. "If a man were to steal a statue, he'd be crazy or something like that. The only place he'd want to go is where crazy people are."

Joe saw that their contact was getting riled up unnecessarily rendering him too clouded for reliable information. "You may be right, Mr. Lorentz."

But his placation did nothing to settle Max's roused ire. "I don't know what you fellas are looking for. But if it's somebody who stole a statue, he's crazy and you won't find him. You won't find him as long as you live. Not in a million years!"

Joe raised his eyebrows in sarcasm at their impossible assignment. "That should cover it." he said in resignation and he and his partner excused themselves with a nod of thanks to Lorentz. "Sorry to have disturbed your game,  
sir. I hope you can get back to it soon enough to enjoy it again." he said of Max's agitation.

"I will, gentlemen. I just need a snort to compose myself. Sorry. I always get this way whenever I find somebody's thinking stupid. Uh, no offense meant.  
It's how I feel about banks, too. I don't trust em either when THEY'RE stupid!"

"Well, isn't that the way you feel about your slowish friend, Leonard Baptista?"  
Bill asked, puzzling on an apparent contradiction.

"He may be dim witted, but it's not the same thing. He's innocent of the crime of stupid thinking. He's too pure of a soul for that. It's why I like him and our chess games."

As Bill Gannon and Joe Friday left the store, Bill leaned into his partner and remarked. "You know. I'll just bet he's the type to stuff his life savings into a mattress to sleep on it at night."

"I wouldn't be surprised." Joe said, rolling his eyes. "Come on, let's get back to Station 51 and wait on our two paramedics to come home. Maybe after we eat on that captain's invite, they'll show up in time for dessert."

Photo: A boiler room with a fire going.

Photo: Maximillion J. Lorentz getting riled up.

Photo: The Dragnet detectives interviewing a witness.

Photo: The station doors propped open, showing engine and squad. *  
From: "Patti or Jeff or Cassidy" Date: Wed, 21 Dec 2005 18:48:20 -0800 (PST) Subject: [EmergencyTheaterLive] Looks Can Be Deceiving..

Dixie McCall and Dr. Brackett were no more clarified on events circulating around Johnny Gage than before they had spoken with Dr. Early, twenty minutes earlier.

Both nurse and doctor slumped as they wandered back down the hallway to the elevators above the emergency ward.

"Well, I guess that ends that." Dixie sighed. "So much for trying to go for the coveted proverbial friend in need cause."

Brackett matched her look of disappointment. "Never knew how much of a stickler our hospital rules about confidentiality were until I ran up against them myself. And I can't blame Joe for clamming up on Marco's case and about what he overheard earlier in the hallway from Roy and Johnny."

"Look who's talking." Dixie said, pushing the elevator button.  
"And I thought I was onto something that would solve everything for all three of them." She buried her head against Kel's shoulder once the doors were closed behind them. "Having a sense of curiosity sucks, Kel. Don't you feel the same way?"

"If I did, I never would have become a doctor." he smiled,  
giving her a comforting hug. "I guess we'll just have to let our firemen get themselves out of this bind on their own. All we can do is be two sets of ears when they do decide to open up to us later on and offer all the best advice we can."

"I still want to do something to help."

"Maybe we can."

Dixie looked up in puzzlement.

"No one says that we can't look in on a patient to get a vitals set or two for the charts. We can always say that we were short nursing assistants today." Kel reasoned.

"That'd be the truth at least." Dixie said, pulling away from Dr. Brackett as they reached the ground floor. "But do we have the right to involve ourselves here? Talking about whatever upset Marco with him may just make his holiday even worse despite our best intentions."

"You know, I would have never even thought of that."

"Being empathetic sucks, too. Now I can't go against my better judgement either." she complained miserably.

Kel sighed hugely, and both of them eyed up the room where Fireman Lopez was. They knew he was most likely changing while the reception desk awaited Joe's paper orders to officially discharge him from the hospital. "Neither can I. But we still can do something on another track."

"Oh? And what's that?" McCall asked..

"We can talk to those detectives on the phone directly, to get some answers."

"How are we going to know where to call them, Kel?"

"Easy. We ask that police officer who was hunting down Johnny.  
By law, he's got to say why he's on private property like this for somebody legally freed on bail. And I'm just the man he's got to explain himself to. All of the sudden, I'm feeling hungry. And gee.  
from the looks of your pale-ish skin... You are, too." he lied.  
"Come on, let's go to the cafeteria for some pie and coffee to get ourselves unhungry and in better shape to handle things."

"Best news I've heard all day." said Dixie.

With their faces set firm in determination, Dixie McCall and Dr. Brackett set off on their self appointed errand briskly.

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Johnny Gage couldn't eat. He couldn't believe it when a police officer sat down at the table behind him and started to stare at his back,  
without looking away, while he drank his coffee in slow measured sips.

"Now that really burns me." said Gage to DeSoto. "He's just sitting there. Why is he looking at us?"

Roy glanced over his shoulder and shrugged. "Why don't you get up and go ask him."

Johnny turned back around with irritated energy. "Oh, no. I'm not gonna play his game. So, being out on bail still means guilty until proven innocent? Ok, all right. Two can play that game. Roy, let's leave a little bit early."

"What? I thought we were going to wait for Marco until he's through filling out the paperwork so all three of us can go back to the station together."  
Roy insisted.

"We are, we are. Not so loud. He'll overhear you." Gage hissed, over his corn bread and chili.

"He already knows what's going on." Roy said through tight teeth. "Don't make such a big deal out of this. You've done nothing wrong. If ya had,  
you'd still be locked up in jail tonight for Christmas Eve."

"Well, then, if I'm so innocent, why are those two detectives still hanging around us? They're more than just starting to get on my nerves, Roy. Think about what they did to Marco."

"That was an accident. They had no idea how close Maria and Marco were."

"Well, they should've checked before they notified next of kin like that of her death. If they had, they'd have realized that it was just him, her and his mother living in the same house together."

"Maybe they took that into consideration, Johnny. Who better to tell than a younger son and not some poor old frail mother about her passing?"

"They did check." said a voice nearby. "It's standard policy to notify a healthy next of kin with distressful news to prevent any unfortunate adverse reactions."

The two paramedics turned around with a matching set of strongly disapproving double frowns and both pegged onto the policeman who had just spoken.

Johnny went ballistic. "Thanks a lot for eavesdropping on a private conversation Mister Squad Cop. The least you can do is tell us why you've been ordered to dog us like this."

The smile fell away from the police officer's face. "I thought I was being polite by letting you eat before clarifying a few facts that I've been asked to get by the coroner's office. They need your detailed positional and physical findings so they can completely fill out Miss Lopez's official death certificate."

Gage shot to his feet. "That's it. Roy, let's go..." he said dangerously. "If I don't leave now, I'm gonna start getting real mad here."

"Ok, ok.. Sorry about that, officer.. You see, my partner's upset about how your superiors handled breaking bad news about your deceased's status to a friend of ours. So you're gonna have to forgive him for acting uncooperative. He's just had to treat that same friend for falling into moderate to heavy shock because of it." DeSoto offered apologetically to the man in blue.

"Ok, now I know. Thanks for telling me what happened to Mr. Lopez. That's another question I had been wondering about."

Roy blinked five times, getting hold of his own emotions."Uh,..you know where we're headed, right?"

"I do." said the man, motioning to his own partner that they were going to follow the rescue squad men and the truck numbered 51 whereever it went.

"Ok, ...Then I guess Marco, me and Johnny will meet ya there." Roy smiled artificially meek, as his partner all but yanked his arm out of its socket as he successfully dragged him out of the cafeteria.

As the two paramedics and the two policemen left the dining area, Dixie and Dr. Brackett were coming in.

Dixie was crushed. "Oh, no.. Now where are they off to?" she quailed.

"They probably have a response to handle. They.. are.. still on duty. I heard Roy call their squad available over the base station radio as we were coming here." said Brackett.

"They can do that with Marco as a passenger?"

"Sure, why not? His replacement's already at the station taking over.  
I heard that from Captain Stanley himself about his personnel change over the same channel to their Battalion Chief. Marco'd just be tagging along, Dixie, and still resting under their direct supervision."

"Not what I'd call a great way to spend Christmas. It's cold out there tonight."

"Whatever their trouble is, at least they're together. And we're just gonna have to live without knowing anything more until after the holidays,  
Dix."

"Somehow, I'm not feeling so merry anymore." said Dixie with a sad pout.  
"And I won't be anytime soon, not until I learn that they're all truly ok." she promised, wiping a sudden wetness out of her nose and eyes.

"Shhh," Brackett soothed her. "That's no way to spend Christmas. Tell you what, let's spend it together come midnight at my house, and I promise you that I'll make a few well placed phone calls using my supposed considerable paramedic business clout around city hall."

Dixie nodded blandly, barely appeased, and together, they left the food line for their mutual work stations in the busy E.R.

Detective Joe Friday leaned on Captain Stanley's office desk and polished one of his shoes by swiping at it with a clean handkerchief. "We can't wait for your men to return any longer, Mr. Stanley. Our other assignment has a very firm deadline that we must meet. We have to have that second case fully solved by midnight."

"Just what do you expect me to do about it, fellas? I'm not a mind reader.  
I don't know where my men are." Hank protested. Boot, in his lap, started whining. "Shh, easy Boot. These are the good guys. We can trust them, I think." he muttered.

"Murder is never pretty, Mr. Stanley. Believe us when we tell you that we'll do everything in our power to make sure your man walks free from these charges.  
It's only a matter of time before the real murderer steps forward."

"Oh, really." Cap scoffed. "Have you found any witnesses to that effect?"

"Not yet." said Gannon softly. He set down his nearly empty chowder mug and he spun it around morosely on the desk with a calloused thumb.

"That's why we want to borrow Boot here." admitted Friday at last.

Cap's eyes squinted. "You're going to use him to track scents in that alley?"

"Yes. Very astute of you." said Joe monotone. "Using dogs to solve crime scenes is something I've been trying to get the department heads to buy for years. Maybe Johnny Gage's case will finally be the one that shows my superiors the true worth of a canine's incredible sense of smell. I know they can fathom out clues where none remain obvious to the rest of us human detectives."

"And we'll take along Johnny as encouragement for your dog. You said he works hard for the people with whom he's formed an attachment." Gannon added. "Please, captain. Call your Squad Unit 51 and tell them to report to the alley where it happened in five minutes. We'll be meeting them there."

Stanley fingered the live HT on his desktop with an empty, pained look.  
"You know my man Marco's with them."

"We know. In fact, we're counting on his presence as positive impetus for Boot to perform. Lopez's emotions should drive out the instincts in him that we need to help us disprove the state's case against Johnny Gage one hundred percent." Gannon said.

Without saying anything more, Cap opened a drawer next to his knee and he drew out a hardly worn black leather collar with a fire department trumpet on it and a light rope leash. He held it out to Gannon firmly for him to take. "These are Boot's. He knows that he'll be asked to actively work a scene once he's wearing them."

"Thank you, captain." said Friday. "We appreciate this greatly. Boot may yet prove to be the big break we've all been waiting for." he said.

"I dearly hope so, for Johnny and Marco's sakes." nodded Hank seriously.

He watched as Bill Gannon clipped on the leash and collar on the wanderer fire station dog. Boot immediately sat up with interest, looking up at the detective and then towards the engine bay. "Ok, you do your part captain, and I promise,  
we'll do ours." said the gray haired man. The two detectives left the station with a very eager Boot on their heels for the unmarked tan Fairlane which was lying hidden and parked in the station's sidedrive.

When they had gone, Hank lifted up his HT and called Squad 51.  
"Engine 51 to Squad 51. Report."

##This is Squad 51. Still 10-8. ## came Roy's puzzled voice over his handheld radio.

"Squad 51. Rendevous to a Code 6A with Unit H/5K. They are on Tach 2. Respond a Code 2-High, on my order, a.s.a.p., to their twenty."

## 10-4, affirmative. Switching to Tach 2 for H/5K. We will advise L.A.  
when we're on location. Also, uh....our Code I is very 10-2, Engine 51.  
He is currently 10-12.##

Cap dropped his head in utter relief at the news that Marco was fine and discharged from Rampart officially. He wasn't too pleased with the fact that he was with Roy and Johnny on the way to another foray into Dragnet's current murder investigation. ::But then again, beggers can't be choosers.:: he decided.

A whooping holler of pure delight echoed resoundedly through the vehicle bay. It was Chet Kelly. He came running into Cap's office. "I heard! I heard!  
Yey! Marco's ok, fellas! Roy just said as much over the radio."

Cap rose from his seat and hung in the doorway, studying the rest of the gang as they gathered around the wall map excitedly to talk. Kelly was working on straightening out the spare I.V. box and oxygen equipment with Gil Robertson, Marco's replacement for the evening. He couldn't help but smile.

Gil Robertson looked up from the rag he was using to clean the chrome on the resuscitator. "You're not the only one good at police codes, Kelly.  
H/5K?...hmm that's Homicide/Detective Support Section and a Code 6A is ..."

"..'Out of Car on Investigation, Requires Assistance.' " replied an equally radio savvy Mike Stoker.

Kelly's smile never wavered, "Right, and Code 2-High means top priority but with no lights or sirens. And Marco's still with em in the squad." then his face fell. "I wonder what they're up to?"

Cap happily filled them in. "You've been hearing our detectives' work up to here all day. Now they're saying it's time for a little bloodhound action from Boot in that alleyway."

"To catch a thief?" Gil guessed eagerly, still in the dark about everything.

"To catch a killer." Cap corrected. "Chet, fill Robertson in on the latest concerning Gage. I'm giving you permission. D*mned if I'm going to keep a secret from one firefighter concerning another one."

Kelly fell to with Gil in a huddle with Stoker and the animated talking began.

Cap restlessly ambled over to the open garage doors with his hands in his pockets to fill his lungs with the cool night air blowing around him. The heavily darkening sky was filled with moonshine and the oddly sharp light from a single bright star, rising in the east.

Try as he might to believe otherwise, Hank swore up and down, that it was winking at him.

-  
::Thank goodness it's too dark to see the bloodstains.:: thought Johnny. ::I don't see any. Maybe someone's already washed them away with a garden hose to keep the curious from lingering.::

On the way in, they had learned about Boot coming to meet them in the unmarked detective's car through one of Cap's updates to L.A..

Soon, they were there. Gage, Marco, Roy got out of the squad at once, turning off the ignition. It was quiet in the alleyway; broken only by the sound of the police squad car that had followed them from Rampart as it pulled up behind them. And by the sound of Boot, running joyfully to them from someplace else that was out of sight. He was dragging his working leash behind him.

Johnny and Roy were worried for Marco's sake about seeing where his young cousin had died, but Boot stayed near and helped distract him from thinking about it too much.

"So where are they?" Johnny demanded of the two police officers.  
"My friend hasn't got all night. He needs a place to lie down in the worst way." he said about Marco, exaggerating a bit.  
Lopez subtly kicked him in the ankle to pipe down. "Johnny.. I'm fine..." he hissed.

"We'll check on the other end of the alley for their car." said the cop and he and his partner turned on flashlights for the trip towards the church. "If your dog is here. They're here." he said.

Soon, they were swallowed up in darkness.

Johnny smiled when he looked up at a familar outline of a brick building on his left next to its steeple. "Hey, Roy. Look. My old apartment building."

All the windows were dark, except for one. In the topmost left corner story, a brightly festooned Christmas tree was illuminating it from a lightless living room.

"That's my old place. Nice to know someone's still living there."  
he said, pointing to the apartment displaying the glowing tree.

"You used to live there?" Marco asked, stooping to pet Boot for some comfort. The shaggy dog nuzzled the place where Marco's I.V. had once connected. "It's ok, boy. I'm better now. So don't fret. Go with the detectives. You're working for them tonight."

Boot whined indecision but then he turned and faced the alley way.  
He didn't have to go very far. The two cops had located the two detectives.

"Let's start this, shall we?" asked Friday, gathering up Boot's lead.  
"Can you get him going for us?"

"Sure.." said Johnny. He knelt by the brown dog and said one command. "Seek, Boot. Go find what's wrong. We'll stay right here. Ok? Go, Boot."

Deftly, Friday released the leash's catch from the station dog's collar.

Boot went.  
Bill Gannon, Joe Friday, Johnny, Roy and Marco were just watching Boot's third pass around the alleyway around the body silhouette tape outline and yellow and black plastic barrier square fluttering in the wind from orange cones, when a man stepped out of the shadows.

Joe Friday started. "Mr. Lorentz.. What are you doing out here?"

"I'm going to Christmas mass a little early. Father Rojas says his two altar boys aren't feeling too well this evening. Says both have a fever or something working on em. I may be needed to stand in their place for the candle service." said Maxmillion. "What are you doing with Johnny and Roy boys? They aren't being blamed for Maria, are they?"

Gannon's suspicions were raised. "How did you know why we're here,  
Mr. Lorentz?"

"I didn't for sure. I just tricked you into telling me. Johnny, did you get the money for your bail ok?" Maxmillion asked Gage.

Roy and Johnny finally recognized the old man. "M- Max? What are y-- Are you the one responsible for doing that? I thought Roy and the rest of the guys from B and C shifts were the ones who put up my bail." wondered Johnny.

Maxmillion the bum and religious store proprietor crowed in pure glee. "Ha! HA ha ha ha..I finally found a permanent way to pay you two fellas off for saving my life last year. That bail is completely nonrefundable. So don't even try to give it back to me. It belongs to the state of California now."

"Excuse me, Mr. Gage, Mr. DeSoto. Just what is your relationship to this man?" cut in Joe Friday.

"He's our victim!" said Johnny, grabbing the old man's blue veined hand and shaking it gratefully. "I mean, he was. Uh, it's a little hard to explain."  
he said, grinning from ear to ear. Then he ignored the detectives's questions while he caught up on news. "That smoke didn't give you pneumonia, Max? We were worried about ya. All of us were. The last we heard, they were bussing you off to the state old folks home for the homeless."

"Never happened. Heh. You see, I'm not quite as homeless as you and they thought I was." winked Maxmillion.

"Oh.. uh, ... really?" asked Johnny.

"Really." said Bill Gannon. "Mr. Lorentz is the proud owner of that religious curio shop right there behind us."

"He is?" rubbernecked Roy, squinting to peer at the dim storefront around the parked rescue squad.

"I truly am. What else did you expect from me? Did you think that money you boys found while rescuing me, was all I had? I'm not stupid enough to leave all my eggs in one basket there, sonny. No siree. I have my adopted brother to think about providing for, now don't I?" said Maxmillion.

Both detectives frowned. "Who would that be?" "Who would that be?" asked both Johnny and Joe Friday simultaneously.  
They both looked at each other in irritation.

Roy and Marco just smiled a bit through their tiredness at their mirrored reaction. They welcomed Boot into their arms when he had finished his trained thorough circuit of the alley way with vigorous pets and rubs onto his broad hairy back.

Maxmillion told them proudly. "Why it's good ol' Leonard Baptista,  
my fine upstanding P.I.s. You remember me talking about him, my best-est friend and chess partner.. He's the one."

Gannon and Friday both sighed and shook their heads ruefully.  
"The church boiler man."

"Huh?" asked Gage.

"Never mind." said Max looking more and more distressed when he thought about his two paramedic saviors' predicament. "Say, Mr.  
Fried Egg.."

"Friday."

"Whatever. How can you pin Maria's murder on him? They found children's prints on the gun. And them only." declared Max, putting a protective arm over Johnny's uniformed shoulders.

"What?" startled Johnny.

Bill and Joe didn't move.

Gage immediately got mad, so did Marco and Roy. And Boot, too,  
when he sensed the change in his firehouse humans. His growl spoke for all of them.

Johnny got angry, fast. "Why didn't you tell that to any of us in the first place?  
Here I was, fretting it out in jail and then at the station and even over poor Marco here while we treated him for hypotensive crisis and you just sat there keeping this information to yourselves?! Oh, ....man.."

"Some kids ...killed my cousin?" whispered Lopez.

Roy and Johnny immediately flanked him.

Marco waved them away. "Whose were they?"

"We don't know. They were smeared and only partial prints."  
Bill Gannon said finally.

"How did you know they were child sized, Mr, Lorentz?" Joe said, looking at Maxmillion.

Maxmillion hung his head, deflecting his answer. "I heard about your troubles, Johnny, on my fire department scanner and I wanted to help these investigators clear your name. You see I never got around to tellin ya fellas that I'm also a closet P.I on the side." And he pulled out a richly polished leather wallet. Inside lay a very high level detective's I.D. One that Friday and Gannon knew only by reputation. And it was real.  
"I work for 1K4Y directly." he said simply.

Joe raised his eyebrows in the first expression of amazement his partner Bill had ever seen. "Organized crime intelligence at investigative services headquarters? Sir, I'm honored." he said, lifting his palm up to shake Max's.

"I don't get it." said Johnny. Even Lopez seemed shaken out of his unpleasant thoughts surrounding the setting he found himself standing in.

"Boys, think about it. I was heavy undercover during a deep police sting operation when that fire broke out in the warehouse where you had to rescue me." Lorentz explained.

"But... but... what about all that money?" Marco asked.

"That was mine. I used my own because I didn't want to do it any other way. You see, the part about my not trusting banks is still true.  
You could say my first name describes my REAL financial standing."

"Maxi.....million?" Roy peeped.

Maxmillion J. Lorentz just nodded and smiled toothlessly. "Yep."  
"And I plied my credentials at the forensics lab, 714 and 4848.  
That's how I know about the small hand prints on that murder weapon."  
he said fiercely. Then his face softened and he set a gentle hand on Marco's shoulder. "Sorry, Marco.. I still don't have all the answers for you. But I'm trying. And I'm trying real hard to clear you, Johnny, and come up with the reason why Maria died. There just aren't enough clues t--"

"Do you smell something?" Johnny asked when he saw Boot, sitting at his feet, sniffing and sneezing, too. Boot began to bark in earnest toward the tall apartment building looming over Father Rojas's church.

A sickly orange cast was just started to stain that solely lit holiday decorated upperstory window. And it jarred discordantly with the gay colors sparkling there.

"..oh, no...." Johnny moaned, as he recognized the sight and smell for what it was.

It was a fire,.. starting quickly inside of the Christmas tree.

Johnny started shouting at the detectives. "Call it in! Call it in! We gotta get up there, now!"

"What? What are you seeing?" Gannon cried.

"A fire in my apartment unit!"

"A fire where? I thought you lived in Bear Claw Canyon.." Joe said quickly, trying to see where Gage was pointing.

"I meant in my old apartment! Where I used to live. Up there!"  
and he rushed to the squad as fast as he could run, throwing open a gear compartment to get out his turnout coat. Then he jumped up top in the back to grab down two air bottles.

"Grab one down for me..." shouted Marco, gesturing.

"No way, Marco. The chief hasn't cleared you yet to work. Let L.A. know that Johnny and I are going up there on a landline with scba gear!" ordered DeSoto.

Not happy, and holding tightly onto Boot's collar, Lopez made the call.

Photo: Brackett and Dixie discussing a matter over the base station.

Photo: Johnny trying to drink coffee with a cop laughing nearby.

Photo: Cap looking incredulous.

Photo: Det. Bill Gannon explaining things.

Photo: Det. Joe Friday looking caught.

Photo: Chet and Gil Robertson cleaning the resuscitation gear.

Photo: A blocked off body crime scene.

Photo: Maximillion J. Lorentz, the gang, and a bag of money.

Photo: Johnny Gage startling, looking up by the engine.

Photo: An apartment with a Christmas tree on fire. Interior shot.

*  
From: "Cory Anda" Date: Thu Dec 22, 2005 1:15 pm Subject: The Fire of the Soul...

Roy hurried into full gear as fast as he could change into it. Already,  
he could see that panicking, still sleepy sets of families were making good their escape down the building's exterior stone staircase as smoke in the stairwells started filling the air from the ceilings on down. "Keep going!" he told them as he got out coils of rope for him and Johnny to use. "Head across the street and go into the church, you'll be safe there."Then he shouted at Johnny. "How many apartments do we have here?"

"Forty. Arranged four units deep each wing, two wings each floor to ten stories."

"Sprinkler system?"

"Yes." he said as he and Roy jogged to the front entrance.  
"And no elevator to speak of. It's one of the reasons why I moved away from here."

Marco grabbed up their two life lines into his hands. "Be careful in there, you guys. I got your backs. Here's a squad radio." he told them, tossing Roy an HT. "The engine's two minutes out."

"Thanks, Marco. Don't get hit by falling false wall debris. There are a pair of gargoyle corner stays right above the fire up there."  
Johnny told him.

Lopez looked up, spotted them, and moved aside fifteen feet.  
"I see them now." he said wrapping the ends of his coworkers' ropes around both wrists. "Man, what a shame. This place has gorgeous architecture."

"It isn't too late yet. Marco. It's not over until it's over." he grinned.  
"Ok, in we go. Standard tugs ok?"

"Two for good going every three minutes." agreed Marco, buttoning up a spare overcoat he had grabbed from the squad. "I got the second radio so we can keep in touch with one other."

Johnny and Roy both gave him a wave as they entered the building with their masks on and ropes tied off to their waist harnesses.

"Roy, about where we're going.. the fire's tenth floor, apartment two on the end left corner. Two windows, one east of the front door, one north directly opposite."

"Do you know how many people live there now?"

"No, I haven't a clue. Wish I did, Roy. Know what I mean?" he said, hustling up the interior stairs right behind his partner. They met several families coming down in the opposite direction, fleeing.  
"That's right, keep going to the lobby!" Gage hollered. "There are firemen down there at the bottom who'll help you get out of here! Move, keep down by the floor in the thicker spots and you'll be able to breathe!" he told them.

Soon, they were passing no more families. They had reached the tenth floor.

----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

The Dragnet detectives and the two street cops immediately began to guide people away from the smoking building in droves. They soon had help, when the sounds of arriving firefighting companies attracted the attention of church goers from their service.

Father Rojas threw his doors wide open for refugees. "Come in, come in. Please, sit down. Who's hurt?" asked the kindly Xavier as he hustled his congregation and the holiday choir singers to attend and care for the evacuating families until the fire crews and paramedics and ambulances were ready to handle them. "Maxmillion? Could you go get the stack of blankets from the sacristy? We should have about a dozen altogether."

Lorentz just nodded, helping one tearful mother in her holiday best sit down with her baby onto a pew's seat. "I'll be right back." he promised the frightened woman. "Don't worry, ma'am. You two are safe here.  
We won't let anything happen to you. Good help's arriving soon. Is your baby daughter ok?"

"Y-Yes.." she said. "Uh, I think so."

"Is everybody in your family out of the building?"

Again, the crying mother nodded. "Everyone. It was just my husband and my stepfather at home. Apartment 120." she sobbed.

"Ok, just rest here a bit. There are four policemen here who'll help you out with her very soon. Ok."

"All right... Thank you Max.." she sobbed, clutching her sooty crying infant to her damp cheek. "Shh, honey, it's ok. We're well out of there and safe.."

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Engine 51 arrived and received its working orders from Battalion One.  
##Engine 51, lay two supply lines for Ladder Nine on the eastern exposure.  
This will be an exterior attack only until we know the extend of the fire zone.  
Stations 99 and 8, assist Squad 51 with victim evacuation from the south and north entrances.## said the chief.

Cap immediately had Stoker pull the engine up to their assigned hydrant.  
Chet Kelly grabbed the ends of the engine's two hoses and wrapped a 2 inch supply line around it, then he whistled. Mike pulled ahead using the hydrant for leverage to yank folded hose down from the hose bed. The connections were swiftly made between hydrant, 51's reservoir and into Ladder Nine's active pump. Stoker got on the panel to coordinate their water feed when the bucket man was ready to charge the water cannon.

Hank paused briefly right outside the Ward's cab as he showed Gage's lawyer how to fasten up his turnout jacket. "Sorry we had to drag you along, Mr. Cogley.  
But your ride's here." he told Trent, pointing out the detectives' Fairlane, parked in the still uneffected alleyway next to the compartment door opened rescue squad."Stay out of our way and stay clear of any charged lines. If you don't watch out, they're sure to buck and knock you flat."

"I understand, Captain. Where's Mr. Gage now?"

Stanley smiled. "Knowing him? He's most likely already up there." he said jerking a thumb at the flaming apartment that was starting to light up the night sky. The bright star shining above, was now completely hidden from view. Hank frowned.

"Can I speak with Marco when he's free?" asked the lawyer, still fumbling with the helmet strap around his chin.

"Only if he wants to. He's officially not on duty. But, he's probably rather busy at the moment anyway, covering my paramedics' rears at the front entrance.  
Where you can't go." he said firmly, to be sure the man did nothing stupid on his fire scene.

"I'll wait, sir. Make sending him to me last." Trent said empathetically. "All these other people come first."

"Glad to see lawyers don't have the idiot gene like some claim, Mr. Cogley. I'm going over to talk to him."

"And I'll be at the church with the detectives if Marco chooses to talk to me."

"I'll tell him."  
Hank adjusted his mask onto his face and his harness firmly over his coat. He jogged to Marco's side of the street, where he could see Lopez holding onto both of Roy and Johnny's lifelines. "How long have they been in there?"

"Three and a half minutes, Cap. I got their tank start up times right here. He said,  
pointing to the skin on his wrist where he had written them down with a pen.  
coughed Marco. "So far, Johnny says it's just the one apartment." he said holding up his HT meaningfully. Then his face screwed up as acrid smoke from burning cloth stung his unprotected eyes.

"Ok, I got these. Go get out of here and out of this smoke." he ordered. "It's too thick now to go unprotected." he said, tapping on his faceplate.

"But, Cap."

"You're inactive, Marco. On the injured list. You know the rules. Go." Cap told him.  
Then he looked over Marco's uniformed shoulder. "Robertson! Kelly! On the double.  
Man DeSoto and Gage's lifelines. They're on the tenth floor." he told his men.  
Then he meaningfully snatched the chattering paramedic handheld radio out of Marco's fingers. "And by the way, our resident lawyer wants a few words with you."

Reluctantly, Lopez got out of the billowing smoke drifting down the building's side,  
accepting a mask handed out to him from one of 99's men for a few snorts.  
The firefighter was going in with a dry attack line coil for the stairwell hose connector on the top landing. "You ok?" asked the man as Marco coughed and pulled a few clean breaths of air from his scba gear. "I saw you face naked from all the way over there."

"Yeah. I'm not on duty. But I was here when it started. Thanks." he said, taking in a last shot of good air. He returned it to the fireman with a nod. "I'm headed for the church to see what I can do over there."

"I'll let the chief know." promised the man. "Are you one of 51's?"

"Yes. But on the inactives' list. My captain knows where I'll be."

"Ok..I'd hold off on a chat with the chief then." waved the man as he put his mask and helmet back on and nodded to his fire bud that they could leave.

"Good luck in there.." Lopez gave the team a thumbs up. They left his side and disappeared into the smoke and darkness filling the alley way. On a thought,  
he stopped by the squad, where he had shoved Boot for safety, and took him out on his leash. ::Maybe he can calm all these kids down.:: Marco thought as he saw the building's residents being helped into the church's well lit annex.

He went inside, going to Father Rojas's side at once.

---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Rojas immediately approached him. "Maxmillion's gone to the sacristy for some blankets for the youngest ones. Is there a paramedic team coming for all these folks yet?"

"I can sure find out, Father." said Marco, looking to the entrance where a street cop was standing as a guide. He could hear his belt radio clearly.

Maxmillion ran up to the both of them. "Marco. There's a baby over there coughing from the smoke. Can you see what you can do?"

"Of course..Here, take over Boot's leash from me." said Lopez and he quickly spotted the nervous mother and the infant. He waved over one of the police officers who had followed them from Rampart and told him to radio out to Battalion to get a fireman in with some oxygen tanks for the worst of those smoke effected. Then he took the baby from her mother and started calming both of them down by speaking in soft Spanish. All the while, he watched the child carefully until the time came for one of the paramedics to stop a crowd status sweep, long enough to prioritize her.

He then started to notice that several people had taken to lying down on the floor in front of the altar on their blankets. He gave the baby back to the mother with a smile. "I've got to go now. She's not having any trouble breathing here. I think she's just a little scared because you are..."

Lopez excused himself and went over to the open space by the altar. "Hey.. is everybody ok over here? I'm with the Los Angeles County Fire Department."  
Five exhausted heads lifted from the floor quickly and most nodded that they were. But then Marco noticed two youngish boys bundled up on the first pew.  
What attracted his attention was the fact that they both wore church robes.  
"Boys. What's wrong? Are you sick from being outside too near the fire?" he asked them.

The first just moaned. "Whaa?....a fire? Oh, I feel sick." he said without opening his eyes. "Let me go back to sleep, ok.? I promise I won't make any more.. *gasp* ...noise, Father.." he whispered hoarsely, misidentifying who Lopez was.

The second altar boy, didn't move. "Hey.." Marco shouted, shaking the blond haired child's shoulder. He recognized him at once. "Joseph.. Joseph Hefferman.. Can you hear me?" The boy didn't react. Marco lifted his head and began yelling for Father Rojas and the policemen. "Father! Both your altar boys are in serious trouble. Get help!"

Lopez noticed that the boys' faces were hot and flushed. There was a damp stain of vomit on the edge of the blanket under Joseph that he almost missed. Marco carefully tipped back Joseph's head and listened closely for any attempt at breathing. The ill looking boy was doing it, weakily, so Lopez balled up the blanket and wadded it under his shoulders to keep the boy's head fallen back enough for a good airway while he monitored his wrist pulse with worry.

Father Rojas came instantly when he heard his name with a firefighter in tow who was carrying a portable oxygen case.

Marco and the lieutenant quickly got two masks set up, a flowing nonrebreather for the partially awake child and the demand valve, he set up for Joseph so Lopez could aid him at will."How long have these two been like this?" Marco asked Xavier as he watched the firefighter call for a paramedic to come to their location. He frowned and began to ventilate Joseph with a thumb trigger when his chest suddenly began to bubble under his ear.

"They were just sleeping, Marco. I sent them both over here to nap during the mass. Joseph did say that he and little James weren't feeling too well. He said it felt like the flu coming on."

"In both of them?" Marco asked.

"Yes. The boys didn't want to raise a fuss by calling their fathers to come take them home before the services were over." fluttered Rojas.

"They're not sleeping now, Father. Something's making them black out."

"What?" said the old priest, bending closer for another look. "They weren't this bad a few minutes ago. Joseph was just blowing his nose. Oh, my word."

"Have they been playing anywhere strange today? This is important, Father.  
I already know that they haven't gotten into any of that smoke out there. James didn't even know that there was a fire going on outside."

"Well, no, nothing comes to mind, ah..." he gripped his head. "It's been a busy day. We've all been tired since early morning." said the Padre. Then he coughed.

Lopez looked up sharply. "Xavier are you nauseated, too? With a headache?"  
he said, handing over the resuscitator to the fire lieutenant to take over. He rose to his feet and held the churchman's shoulders.

"A little bit. Funny, I.. didn't feel this way a half an hour ago."

Marco quailed. "Father Rojas. Get everybody to open up every door in the church. All the windows, too."

"What? Why?" he said as he motioned well trained robed assistants to do just that.

"If I'm right, there's poisonous gas building up in here from somewhere."

"Impossible. We don't use gas. We have all electric."

On the bench, little James stirred restless underneath the steadying hand of the firefighter working on his best friend. "..Leo.. Leo!....Go get Leo. He's sick, too.  
Real bad... Joseph and I couldn't get him out of bed for the Christmas mass."

A feeling of dread overcame both the firefighter and Marco. "Oh, no. Does this place have a boiler room?" guessed the fireman venting the little boy.

"Yes. Blocked flue or chimney for sure. That boiler's brand new..." said Lopez rising suddenly. He grabbed his HT. "HT 51 to Battalion One. Possible carbon monoxide leak at my twenty! At least four victims. We need an immediate fire company at the church!"

"Marco! Leonard Baptista must still be down in the basement. I thought it odd that he wasn't here to listen to the singing tonight." said Xavier.

"Ok, ..I'm gone with him. Soon, they'll be, too." said the firefighter nodding at the evacuees, as he lifted up Joseph into his arms. He kept up his mask delivered breaths on the boy as the policeman picked up the other boy and the tank. "Outside, everybody back outside!" the lieutenant shouted, stirring up the groggy sleepers on the floor with a boot. Then he turned to Lopez. "Take off my air bottle. You're gonna need it if you check the lower level for that man. I'll get back to you with a full team as soon as I get these two to a paramedic."

Boot, the dog, was coughing now, even at the main doors, and Maxmillion J. Lorentz,  
noticed it. "Hey, boy, don't pull at your leash so much. We're ok here. At least, I think so. " Then the words "...bad boiler.." echoed down to him from the rafters from somewhere near the back of the church. Their significance didn't sink in until he saw little Joe and James being rushed out of the church, both with oxygen masks pressed firmly against their faces, their gold and ivory robes fluttering in the wind.  
"Baptista.. you crazy ol codger. If you've killed yourself, I'll never forgive you!" he hissed, tying off Boot's leash to a lamp post on the street. He craftily followed the repanicked crowds abandoning the church, going with the flow, until he reached a special side door which led to the basement. Taking a deep breath,  
Maxmillion, slipped inside.

---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Detective Friday, heard a door slam at the church from where he and his partner were watching from a good vantage point. It was one that he knew which opened from the dark alleyway. "Come on, Bill. That didn't sound right."  
he said, throwing his cigarette away.

"What didn't?"

"That slamming door. I think someone who's not a firefighter went down after Leonard Baptista."

"Was it Lorentz?"

"None other. Look, Boot's tied up on that street light . A minute ago, Max was still holding him."

"Gonna tell somebody?"

Joe didn't reply. He just opened the Fairlane's door that he had been leaning on and got on the CB, switching it to the fire command frequencies.  
"744 and 4848 to Battalion One. Urgent."

##Go ahead, H/5K.## said the fire chief.

"We just eyeballed one of our men doing something stupid at the church.  
He's gone into the basement after a man possibly trapped in all that gas."

##10-4 on that. Speeding up our response teams. Battalion One out.##

The two Rampart police officers met up with the detectives and Trent Cogley to keep out of all the firefighters' way. "What's new?" Trent said, still in the dark about the church gas leak and Maxmillion's disappearance.

"Maybe another pair of DBs." Joe replied. He wasn't beneath shocking the frilly laywer.

"What?!" Trent choked spitting out the mug of coffee he had been given by a church volunteer. "Whose this time?"

"A retarded boilerman in the church basement."

"And probably soon, his best friend. He just rolled the dice by going down after the guy while trying to brave a sea of carbon monoxide."  
Bill Gannon told him.

"He won't make it." said one of the cops. "I've seen this a thousand times.  
CO can kill in less than ten minutes in high enough concentrations."

"Ah, but these fire boys know they're down there. Maybe that'll make em just a little bit quicker on the draw." Joe hoped. "And maybe, they'll both make it out of there."

Joe angled his head, seeing an altar boy being loaded onto an ambulance stretcher. "Say, Bill. Isn't that James Cormeen and little Joe over there?"

Gannon jolted. "It sure is."

"Who are they?" Trent Cogley asked.

"Two altar boys who served at mass the same day Maria was killed." said Bill." I wonder what happened to them." he replied. "They look bad."

"Let's find out." Joe nodded. He and Bill and Trent left the two cops behind at the car and soon, they were kneeling by both ambulance gurneys as they awaited loading by the two paramedics caring for the apneic boy. "L.A.P.D." Friday announced himself to the paramedic team. "How are they doing?" he said, putting his badge away after the busy medic had gotten a good look at it.

"One's been intubated as you can see. He's most likely down from carbon monoxide asphyxia."

"And the other one?" asked Bill, studying James Cormeen's reddish face.

"He's got a better chance of recovery. He got less gas we think." replied Station 8's medic.

"Mind if we talk to him?"

The paramedic sighed. "Yes. We gotta get these two to a hospital a.s.a.p. We still don't have consent to treat for either one."

"You do now." said Joe firmly.

"What?"

"I've just put them into protective custody. Treat away." said Friday.  
"Starting those I.V.'s will give us time for some questions."

The paramedic rubbed his sooty nose. "Just don't wear him out or you'll have me to answer to." he warned, handing off the biophone to his partner already in the Mayfair, venting Joseph one handed. "I know how you investigators work. You're ..all ..dry and facts hungry."

"Actually, he's real gentle under that iron exterior." Bill grinned wanly.

Eight's man grinned faintly. "I'll believe it when I see it. The boy's a bit confused, but if you go slow. He'll answer you. His name is James." he said, getting another blood pressure off the moaning altar boy.

"We know." said Joe, then he crouched down by Cormeen's side.  
"James... Can you hear me? It's the police. It's really important that you answer a few questions about your illness. Why were you two in the boiler room with Leonard Baptista?"

"We had ...to make sure.. he was ok. We've been protecting...him."  
sighed the boy under the breathing mask. "We don't want him to get arrested.. "

"Why?" smiled Bill, holding the groggy boy's hand. "What for?"

James' face screwed up, startling the medic, who instantly checked his airway status with a hand to his chest. "..It's all .... our fault."  
sobbed the boy. "Joseph and me... We found it in Leo's cookie jar.  
We didn't mean to do it. Honest.."

Joe's eyes glinted softly. "You mean you found the gun."

"Yes. We didn't mean to hurt her. We were aiming at all the garbage cans. We....didn't even know she was there...Joe thinks one of the shots bounced off one of the loose bricks lying in the alley and hit her." he cried, bright tears flowing down his face. "Oh, G*d.  
We just wanted to know what it felt like to shoot like the Lone Ranger does. He looks so cool with his." he cried, gasping.  
"What happened this morning after you saw Maria fall to the ground?"

"We dropped it and ran away. There was a man in a white jeep coming."

"Johnny Gage..." whispered Trent Cogley in Joe's ear.

Joe nodded. "It's ok, son. Maria's death was an accident. Try to relax now.  
You've gotten it off your chest. But...one more thing, can you tell me if Leonard's still alive in the church's basement?"

"Yes.. Joseph and I saw him at the seventh cantas."

Bill looked at his watch. "That was fifteen minutes ago."

Father Rojas stepped out of the shadows, and he had heard every word. "G*d forgives the little children, detective. When their hearts fully realize their sins."

"You're forgetting Marco and his family, Father. What about them? If any real forgiving's to be done, the absolution must come from them as well."  
Joe said. "Or the boy won't be able to find his peace. He's too young to understand anything else."

"You might be surprised, Detective. The soul knows more than you think when its been properly guided. James was Maria's best vocal student.  
A lot of her is already deeply embedded inside of him. He loves life too much to let it go like that. Faith can bring one very, very far along at times."

"Then why are you giving Joseph here his last rites?" Friday asked cynically.  
He pointed to the purple satin stole around Xavier's neck as the Padre motioned the sign of the cross over the second still boy getting bagged by ET on an ambu.

"Because I must when I find that a soul's in mortal danger. It is one of my jobs on this earth. Just like it was yours to uncover those who accidently took Maria's."  
said Xavier sadly.

----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Marco Lopez could hardly see through his air mask. But he knew the church well enough to get where he wanted to be in less than a minute.

Leonard Baptista was only inside the next room, he knew, with his cot near the boiler for added warmth. ::I only hope I get there in time.:: he wished.

----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Photos: None.

*  
From: "Roxy Dee" Date: Thu Dec 22, 2005 8:58 pm Subject: Times Two~~

"Leonard!?... Leonard!! Can you hear me? It's Marco Lopez..." he shouted,  
shoving his shoulder against the door he could see chain secured which led to the small dormitory next to the large round boiler. As he feared, Leonard was lying face down on a simple, unadorned cot devoid of sheets or blankets inside the tiny clean white washed room.

He broke the chain on the second try using the air bottle on his back as a battering ram against the door. A quick snatch on a lever above the huge church boiler on the chimney flue made it open easily with a yank and a crumpled bird's nest along with several dead pigeons fell into the fire from the ventilation hole leading to the roof. :: Those birds must have knocked this shut accidentally somehow. Especially if they had been trying to warm themselves there.:: A knock of his helmet against the window popped open its panes and the cool night air began to flood in and flow up the newly opened chimney. ::That'll get rid of most of this gas.:: Marco thought.

Then there was no more time to waste. Lopez didn't even bother with a vitals check on Baptista. He grabbed up the man and balanced him between a shoulder and the bottom of his air bottle and ran for the spiral staircase leading back up into the church proper.

He had no sooner gone when Maxmillion came crashing through the opened door from the hidden back stairwell and straight into a pool of carbon monoxide that had settled there from the temperature change. Lorentz slipped on a fallen newspaper and landed on his rear. It caused him to lose the breath he was holding. Maxmillion struggled to his feet when he saw that Leonard wasn't on the bed any longer and he panicked, trying for the window and the fresh air that Marco had just liberated.

He failed to get there in time and the insidious, invisible fumes wafting about the still stuffy room snuffed out his consciousness. Maxmillion slumped to the floor in a graceless heap, limp.

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Outside, Boot was frantic. His barks of warning had gone unheeded by the hustling firefighters dashing through the darkness around him and he leaped and strained against the leash bound to the street light. All of his attention was focused on the alley way where Maxmillion Lorentz had gone.

Hank Stanley looked up toward Boot. ::I wonder what's gotten him so riled up?:: A few seconds later, word finally came out from Marco in the church that the basement CO victim had been found over a police radio. He ran for the steps of the pueblo style church and intercepted him, motioning for one of 99's paramedics to meet them with full medical gear. ::So that's why. A victim's coming out.:: he guessed wrongly. He petted Boot's back in affection as he jogged by. "It's ok,  
boy. We got him. He's coming right here." Hank told the excited dog.  
Lopez soon appeared out of the church and was helped with his burden by several masked firefighters. "I know. I know, Cap. I'm off duty."

"I didn't see anything, Lopez. Hurry up and let go of him." Stanley said firmly.

Baptista was lowered to the ground and Cap immediately got on the man's head as an oxygen apparatus was cracked and set next to him. Lopez shed his scba and opened Leo's shirt so they could clearly see the upper half of his body. Cap knelt low as he listened to the red, sweaty man's nose and mouth. "Nope." he told Lopez and the paramedic waiting with a positive pressure valve mask. "Not breathing."

-- edit mark

Leonard immediately got ventilated while Hank slid his fingers into the groove next to the man's adam's apple. He soon waved Marco off the man's chest where he had laced still fingers in a waiting for CPR position. "Got a carotid, but it's thready and irregular." Cap told the medic and Lopez both. Marco took his hands away, sighing in relief, finally giving in to the effort that it took to rescue his victim.  
He sagged onto his butt on the pavement.

"We've got him from here, guys." said 99's partner, who appeared from around the corner at a run with an HT cocked to his ear. "Thanks."

"O.k., we're clearing." sighed Hank and he got back on his feet. Then he turned to Lopez. "What did you find in there?" he said squatting down by Marco. He helped him unbutton his turnout so he could cool down a little.

"Birds and a nest. They must have knocked the flue shut. I reopened it. I also got the room's only window thrown open."

"Good going. That'll do whole bunches for airing out the rest of the church on our level." said Hank. "Now do I have to tell you to sit down for a while? You're as white as he is." Stanley quipped, throwing a head over to Leonard who was getting prepared for an endotracheal intubation on a doctor's order.

"Sitting's real nice, Cap. You don't have to tell me twice." Marco coughed.  
The commotion Boot was making finally got through to Hank and Marco. Lopez lifted his head. "Wait a minute, where's Maxmillion?" he asked Stanley.

"Who?"

"Lorentz. You remember that old bum we rescued from that burning mattress fire last year who had it stuffed full of money..."

"Yeah, I remember him, the crazy coot." admitted Hank. "What does he have to do with anything?"

"He's not what he seems, Cap. He's a detective and he's been helping Johnny, too.  
He was supposed to be right here, watching Boot for me. He said he'd do it while I got his friend out."

Boot's loud barks continued unabated and only then did Lopez and Cap realize what that meant. He was focused on someone else in trouble.

Captain Stanley rubbed his forehead. "Uh, oh. Are you thinking what I'm thinking?"

"Yeah, and I don't think I like it at all." declared Marco, slipping on his air mask again.

Quickly, Captain Stanley drew out a jack knife from his belt and sliced through Boot's leash, freeing him. The search dog immediately tore for the alleyway. "Yep. The old geezer's up and done it. He most likely went in directly after you, Marco. Go. Take Gil in as backup. He's right by our engine over there. And bring Boot inside with you. He'll find him faster."

"What about all the monoxide, Cap?"

"It's probably cleared out by now. You did say you got the window open."

"Right." Lopez took off at a run, hand signalling to Robertson to follow him for a victim search.

In the same instant, Battalion One came over the handheld frequency with the news about a second victim possibly being in the basement of the church as reported by Unit H/5K. ::Those detectives again?:: thought Captain Stanley. ::Man, they sure get around. But Boot's beaten them to it this time.::

Hank forced himself to trust his men to keep themselves breathing safe for the second run into the church. His attention focused back onto the apartment building where Roy and Johnny and others were fast sweeping through for lagging victims.  
::Come on, come on. That tree's pure tinder. I give that living room about a minute more to remain livable. Then it'll be too late for anyone, victim or firefighter, still caught inside.::

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Photos: None.

*  
From: "patti keiper" Date: Sun Dec 25, 2005 4:21 pm Subject: Miracle on Alleyway Street..

Captain Stanley couldn't wait any longer to hear from his medical men on the tenth floor. ##Engine 51 to HT 51. Just exactly, where is the fire? The aerial bucket is lining up her nozzle as we speak#  
shouted Cap into his handheld.

Gage gasped as he and Roy rounded the last bend to stop before the still closed front door of the renter's apartment. "To the right of the exterior window along the outer wall as you're looking at it from the street!" shouted Johnny in reply into the talkie's pickup as he ran and tugged his lifeline into reach behind himself.

##Will do. Watch out for flying glass! We're charging and firing in full water now!## said Hank.

"Maybe that'll buy us some more time here." coughed Roy in his mask.  
"This door's real hot. Almost too hot."

"Yeah, well, here's hoping. I'm kicking it in!" Gage yelled as he backed up.

On the third try, the door popped open and a searing mushroom cap of fire belched out the top of the doorspace as the air from the hallway rushed in and fed its raging appetite.

They found the only two occupants, conscious and huddled in the bathroom under a running stream of cold water.

Throwing a large bedspread over themselves and their two air masked covered victims, Roy and Johnny got out of there as fast as they could. Seconds later, the hose team rushed in to battle the living room fire with an ample fan of water.

"HT 51 to Battalion One. Bringing out two live ones. Both conscious.  
Have two ambulance gurneys waiting in the street for us. They have moderate heat exposure but only mild smoke inhalation." DeSoto declared happily to the firemen outside over his HT. "Engine 51. FYI.  
we're coming down the fire escape on the north side if you want men to meet us there."

##Copy that, HT 51. Nice work. O2 is standing by.## said Stanley.

-  
Marco Lopez and Gil Robertson shoved their way past unseen spilled garbage cans in the alleyway, until they forced their way into the stairwell door that Boot had nosed open.

"Boot! Sound off, boy!" Lopez yelled into the darkness as he and Gil clattered down the stairs in their scba gear.

"Bark!.. Bark!" came an echo just down the narrow basement passageway.

"Straight down, to the left. The left!" Marco gestured eagerly at Robertson. "The room's lit up. Second door."

Gil and he soon saw Boot's urgent, whining form as he licked the face of the comatose Maximillion lying on his back on the floor. "There he is. Right there." pointed Gil.

The two firefighters rushed to the old detective/bum's side and pulled off their gloves to feel for a pulse and signs of respirations through the man's shirt. "He's ok. He's ok...!" Marco declared.  
He let go of Lorentz's stomach and soon, the two of them were carrying the man out of the church by his legs and arms followed by a worried prancing Boot, the whole way out, to where a rescue squad waited with a yellow tarp and spread out medical gear.

Once laid on the street, Lorentz was reassessed and given a flood of oxygen until he started grunting in protest at the fussing his head and face were getting from the ventilating fireman.

Marco leaned in close to his ear. "Maxmillion. It's deja vu all over again I'm afraid. Guess who's shaking some sense back into ya?" he grinned.

"My money!" Lorentz startled as he awaken fully on the next breath.

"It's safe and still whereever you've hidden it this time. Now I'm telling you to lie still to let Roy and Johnny take more than just a good look at you on the monitor, ok?" Lopez said in half warning. Then he smiled fully and felt all of his fatigue melt away like water.

"You sure about that? Where's Leonard? I..." Lorentz coughed.

Roy DeSoto piped up from where he was dressing light burns on the hands of the two victims he and Johnny had rescued. "Breathing and on his way to Rampart Hospital. Which is where you're going too."

"Not gonna argue with you. Don't think....I have enough puff ...with which to do it." gasped Maxmillion. "But I am ...gonna say.  
thanks. From him.. and me..*cough cough cough*"

"You're welcome.." Lopez told him. "Roy, how many victims shall I say are coming to the hospital?"

"Three. These two should be evaluated, too, as soon as possible for some smoke inhalation."

"You sure got them out fast." Marco said, picking up the biophone antennae and plugging it into the receiver port.

"They were easy to find. They were using a shower curtain as a smoke screen under some running water." Gage shared.

"Wow, that was clever thinking. Most people hide in the closet and bake a bit first before they realize that it's a bad idea getting into a tiny space." Lopez replied.

----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Joe Friday let go of the hat he had been clutching tightly, rolled like a log in his hands. "Wow. I had no idea what firefighters go through on their actual day to day. They really stick their necks out, don't they? Guess a fire's not like a bullet at all, which you can sometimes see coming. What do you think, Bill?"

"I knew there was a reason for that larger paycheck of theirs. I just don't think I've ever realized it, until now, you know? Don't think I'll complain to the city payroll about the difference again. I just wouldn't feel right about it. They sure are something special."

"Yeah. Six lives saved in one night's work? Incredible. Especially notable on this night of all nights. I hope their superiors realize what kind of men they have at their disposal. They're way beyond just being good at what they do." said Joe, lighting up a cigarette and offering the flame to his partner who had pulled out one of his own.

"I'm sure they see that. Hank Stanley in particular. Did you see the way he protected his men from even the slightest bit of harm? Our own captain could learn whole chapters about looking out for Sam Small from him." nodded Bill with conviction.

"I personally, have never seen him treat junior officers or public P.I.s badly.  
Are you saying our captain lacks character, Bill?" montoned Friday.

"No. All I said was, Captain Mack IS a character who could learn a lot from that fire captain right-over-there's example." Bill said.

"I thought that that was what you said. Thanks for clarifying." Joe replied dryly. But he was smiling.

"No problem, Joe. " As the nearly bald, hawkish detective opened his car door,  
the crowds still waiting along the street for the fire crews to give the final word on their progress in airing the two buildings, grew quiet and suddenly respectful when the young mother with the baby Marco had held earlier, started to sing a touching,  
soft solo of one of the oldest Christmas carols known. A tentative, unaccompanied old ballad, ..Silent Night. It was quickly picked up, joyfully, by Father Rojas's church choir, still standing in a group on the curb in their sparkling holiday robes.

And immediately, the two downtown detectives knew that it was to thank all the fire stations for all that they had done. "Oh, would you look at that?" said Bill, as the overhead eastern star made a reappearance as the smoke from the upper story apartment steamed and fizzled away into nonexistence above them. "It's just going on midnight. It's Christmas Day." said the younger investigator. "Ohhh,  
it's so beautiful out here now, Joe. Look.." he whispered, pointing to the strong powerful light coming from the star glimmering in absolute purity over the city's nightscape. Joe saw that he had true tears forming in his eyes. Bill sighed, suddenly moved beyond words. Gannon took off his hat and clutched it in feeling on the roof of their unmarked car. "Merry Christmas, partner. Now that's what I call one h*ll of a gift." And he turned his head so he could hear the collected voices from the church and apartment evacuees more clearly on the soft rising winds.

"Merry Christmas, Bill. I do see it. And her... The singing's lovely.." he nodded genuinely. For once, the famous Friday monotone was nonexistent and full of emotion.  
"So...Where to?" Joe asked quietly, reluctant to destroy the almost tender, miraculous moment. He was referring to their last as yet unsolved assignment concerning the nativity statue still missing from the church manger.

"Well, I don't know." sighed Bill with a sad, wilting frown as he dragged himself back to reality.

Friday was gentle, and willing to ease the sting of it. "We could stay and work on it tonight."

"Wouldn't do any good. We won't find it...Will we?" Bill paused, his foot on the driver door's runner.

Joe nodded in agreement. "I don't think so."

Bill sighed. "No use kidding the priest. It'd build his hopes up." he said.

Friday got into the car and buckled in. "We might as well go tell him now."

Behind them in the rear seat, Johnny's lawyer, Trenton Cogley, was all smiles. "Merry Christmas, fellas." he said gayly, fully ignorant of the bad tidings the two men now had to deliver.

The two detectives dipped their heads at him, without saying anything.

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:: 12:04 pm. We found Father Rojas. Bill told him how it was, that we didn't get the statue back; nor could we by morning, but that we'd keep trying during the week. He said he understood. We told him that we had to get on. As Bill and I started to leave, the doors to the main entrance of the church opened. It was a good two hundred feet away, something making a wheeled noise on the ceramic tiled floor. It was hard to be sure, but it looked like a small boy drawing a bright red wagon behind him. When he got closer, you could see he was no bigger than a pint of milk. He was a luminous eyed little Mexican boy with a face as young as yesterday. The priest suddenly knelt, and crossed himself with a gasp.

::In the back of the wagon, was the missing statue of the child, Jesus. He picked it up gently and walked over to us.::

The boy spoke with innocence, holding up the delicately painted statuary to Father Rojas. "Feliz Navidad, Padre Rojas.." he said sincerely. "Aqui, triago por tu, senor." (Merry Christmas, Father Rojas. Here, I brought this for you, sir.)

Rojas glanced up at the detectives. "This is Pablo Mendoza. Another altar boy from the parish."

Joe joined them both on the boy's level. "Ask him where he found it."

Xavier and the boy exchanged a dialogue in lilting, musical Spanish. Then Father Rojas looked up. "He didn't find it. He took it."

"Why?" asked Friday.

Rojas addressed the tiny, simply dressed boy again in his own language. The child replied, fingering the face of the statue in the Padre's arms thoughtfully while he spoke his mind. Soon, the priest had his final answer. "He says it's because of that wagon. He promised himself that if he ever got the wagon, he would give Jesus the first ride in it."

The detectives' eyebrows rose in mild amusement, touched by the innocence of boy's acting motive for the petty larceny.

Seeing that the strange men before him were from the police department by the sight of the guns shadowed in holsters underneath their jackets, Pablo spoke once more,  
pointing at the main altar behind them, still covered with advent flowers.

Rojas translated. "He wants to know if the Devil will come to take him to H*ll." said the priest, pointing to the detectives belt hanging handcuffs.

Bill pulled his jacket shut and Joe, next to him, did the same to calm the child. Then Gannon smiled. "That's your department, Father."

Rojas grinned, glad that no example would be made of his parishner. And he absolved the boy softly with reassurances with a stroke on the cheek. He rested a light hand on his head, and smiled at him.

::We crossed over to the sanctuary. With the help of Father Rojas, the young boy replaced the infant Jesus in its rightful place in the crib of the nativity scene. Bill and I could have been wrong, but.. the small plaster statue seemed to approve. Mary, Joseph, Elijah, Gaspar.. Malteer, Balazaar, the old shepherd, the young shepherd, the peasants.. They all seemed to approve.

::The priest told the boy to go home. He took hold of his wagon and Pablo started the long walk out of the church. There wasn't much we could say. There wasn't much TO say... We just stood there and watched him go. Half way up, he turned to look back. Then he went on out.::

The huge granite doors slid shut with a resounding echo behind him and the three men of honor were left nestled in a soft, peaceful silence under the warm candlelight from the side alcoves.

Bill was hushed. "I don't understand how he got that wagon today. Don't kids wait for Santa Claus anymore?"

Rojas beamed, still looking at the tall doors. "It isn't from Santa Claus. The firemen in all the surrounding stations fix up old toys, making them look like new, to give to all our church children. Paquito's family? They're poor.." he shrugged in explanation self consciously.

Joe met his eyes evenly and a knowing sparkle seemed to shine out from deep in their depths. "Are they, Father?"

-  
It was very early at dawn on Christmas Day, Dr. Brackett and Dixie were jolted out of sleep from where they lay stretched on two separate couches by a ringing telephone. It was Trenton Cogley for Dr. Brackett. Kel replied to the fire department lawyer, instantly. "Yes, I'll be there, Cogley. First thing come Monday morning. Merry Christmas to you, too. Goodbye." And he hung up the phone.

"Who was that?" murmured a sleepy Dixie as she rose to clear the plates full of food crumbs still scattered on the living room coffee table.

"Cogley. He says the case against Johnny is pure bunk. Turns out a couple of mischievous altar boys are truly to blame for Maria Angel's killing." Kel replied, grabbing up the empty wine bottle and glasses that they had used to toast in the new holiday. "It's panning out so far, as purely accidental."

"Ooo," Dixie sighed. "Will the authorities go easy on them, Kel?"

"They'd almost have to. Both are laid up in the hospital with heavy cases of carbon monoxide poisoning taken in at Marco Lopez's church during Christmas services yesterday."

"Oh, ironic. That's .. really rough. It'll take weeks, ..months.. to determine how much damage was done by their exposure..." Dixie frowned.

"Don't I know it.." Brackett said, "I'll call Joe to see what their blood carboxyhemoglobin percentage levels are sitting at to help him figure out how things might go when we return to work tomorrow."

"It'll tear Marco apart if either one of them dies. He probably knows both boys well."

"He's not going to press charges. Not now and not ever. Cogley told me as much just now. He got Lopez's angle on how things'll stand, while at the scene of a fire. 51's still there now, cleaning up." Dr. Brackett said.

"That's a long night of duty. And on Christmas, too. How on earth are they gonna celebrate anything for being so tired like that?" McCall demurred.

"I don't know, Dixie. Maybe a few grateful residents from that fire will give them a batch of holiday cookies or two to take back home with them." Kel replied.

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The gang returned to base just as the dawn came and swallowed up the mysterious star that had overseen the events of the past night. They dragged themselves out of engine and squad, moaning in fatigue. Marco had come, too, to collect his car and to put the two pies they had received from the church congregation into refrigeration for later.

"I'm bushed..." Cap said, sitting on the foot guard of the engine next to Stoker, who was doing the same thing. "Everybody, forget the usual vehicle clean up. Top priority is a round of hot showers .. and it's off to bed. That's it."

"Sure, Cap." Roy said, "But I am gonna check out the drug box to make sure we have enough supplies with us for the next call."

The much fresher Gil Robertson, leaped in. "I'll... go fill up all our oxygen cylinders.  
We used, what? Four at the fire?"

"Something like that." Gage sighed, sitting opposite the others on the squad's step grill.

Chet Kelly saundered over to Johnny. "So, how does it feel to be a real free man?"

"Absolutely wonderful. I couldn't've asked for a better Christmas present."

"Wait a minute, Johnny." Marco said. "I thought as a Native American, that you didn't celebrate Christmas. At all."

"I can honor the spirit of the day. Nothing in my belief system says that I can't do such a thing. All the well wishing and the giving sentiment, is very reminiscent of my own people's sacred days when they come." Gage said, chuckling. Then his stomach growled. "Wow, I'm hungry now?"

"Why not?" DeSoto grinned. "I can't imagine the food in that jail was any good."

"It wasn't. I couldn't eat a single bite of it."

Cap coughed some soot out of his chest and rose to his feet. "You know that sounds like a terrific idea. Eating, I mean. How about we cook up leftovers and then enjoy some of that pie before we detail ourselves clean, ok fellas?"

"I'm for that.." said Chet and so did everybody else in other ways.

The gang entered the kitchen, rubbing Boot's still smoky coat in firm praises,  
when they all stopped dead in the doorway leading from the vehicle bay.

Standing in the rec room, were Detectives Friday and Gannon, flanking a fully decorated, and delightfully alighted, Christmas tree.

Bill was solemn and he nudged Joe to pull his hands down from behind his back to present a more sincere picture. "Uh, hi fellas." Gannon began. "I suppose you're wondering why we're here. We, uh,.. wanted to apologize to Mr. Lopez directly and to the rest of you for our earlier behavior towards him. It was thoughtless and very unbecoming of a police officer to have done what we did."

Joe nodded gravely. "Same from my end, too. I'm sorry to have caused so much trouble. We had no idea that you would be sickened so badly, Mr. Lopez."

"Apology accepted, sir. Uh, sirs.." said Marco. Then he stepped forward. "Wow,  
what a wonderful tree. How long did it take you to put it up and decorate it?"  
he asked.

"Not long." answered Joe Friday. "We had help. Father Rojas's church choir was here en masse not too long ago. They figured they could express their gratitude that would agree with departmental polices about gratuities in this tree, for saving Leonard and his friend and the two altar boys. Technically, this is just a little sidework that could be classified as redecorating."

The firemen grinned then and Marco Lopez was the first to take the detectives'  
hands to shake them in heartfelt forgiveness. Then everyone was lost in the heady smells wafting from the heavy pine needles, from sap and from the bright clusters of holly berries making the Christmas tree's branches fill with the spicy scent... of Christmas.

-  
Dr. Brackett reported first thing that Monday morning to the paramedic regulatory board. He had a loose end to tie up concerning the discipline the committee wanted to lay on Johnny Gage for his apparent recklessness in trying to come to Maria Angel's aid.

He set the committee heads straight onto their ears.

"I know things were dangerous for my paramedic. Name any firefighter paramedic who never encounters at least some danger while working on the job. I concede that Johnny Gage took on a lot of risk to himself unnecessarily. He just didn't clearly know the possible legal ramifications that his actions would have at the time he had to act. All my paramedic wanted to do then, was to help, as he was trained to do, by me. So I offer you a compromise, ladies and gentlemen on the board, ..if you lay aside his written reprimand.

"I offer you an amendment proposal to the paramedic program, officially. I can submit to you, this..."

With that, Kel Brackett approached their long table of deliberation set up in the back of the city courthouse with a packeted outline that he and Dixie had created together on Christmas Day. "I propose to you the following new protocol.  
No paramedic shall attempt to render aid to any victim until such time as the scene is declared fully safe to enter. Attempts will be made to secure the scene by using the police department, where necessary, before any care is rendered whatsoever."

Eyebrows went up all around the committee table. It surprised each and every one that such a common sense idea had escaped them so completely. And it drove its credibility home even more to have a real life bonafide practicing medical doctor,  
show it to them so poignantly.

It was no time at all before the disciplinary paperwork, halfway in the works for Johnny, was dismissed soundly into the shredder.

As he left the judicial offices, Kelly Brackett could only smile as he took hold of Dixie's arm tightly on the return trip to the parking lot where his convertible was parked. "Well, looks like we found a way to help out Johnny and Marco, without stuffing our noses directly into it."

"I'm sure glad we finally did. But let's not tell them anything, ok? It'll be our little secret." she whispered. "Merry Christmas, Kel. That was showing absolutely the best kind of Christmas spirit."

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::You have just heard Dragnet, a series of authentic cases from official files.  
Technical advice comes from the office of Chief of Police W. H. Parker, Los Angeles Police Department....::

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FIN

Episode Twenty Eight, Season Four Smoke Screen

Emergency Theater Live ------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Photo: Vince and Cap studying a burning building at night.

Photo: Roy giving a rescued boy air from his scba.

Photo: An aerial bucket's view of ambulance attendants.

Photo: Close of Maximillion J. Lorentz, the money bum.

Photo: Roy and Johnny treating victims by the squad.

Photo: Joe Friday and Bill Gannon talking at night. Close shot.

Photo: Fire witnesses watching at night.

Photo: Father Rojas by a cross, listening.

Photo: A little boy with a statue of Jesus in his hands.

Photo: Brackett at his house on the phone.

Photo: Dixie and Brackett enjoying Xmas day on the couch.

Photo: Cap and the gang standing stupified in the kitchen doorway.

Photo: The Dragnet detectives with a Xmas tree in Station 51's rec room.

Photo: Brackett at an official hearing in front of a committee.

Photo: A Xmas tree ornament reflecting a fireplace on a branch.

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